Make Me Pretty
by remonrime
Summary: Mello didnt know what to do when he saw Near putting on makeup, even going as far as dressing up in girls clothing. All this...and they're not even past 9 years of age? Children these days... MELLOxNEAR SHOTA SHOTA SHOTA SHOTA Warned you enough?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fan-fiction will be under revision starting 4/2/10. I will no longer be updating the sequel to this, for I am no longer interested in Deathnote, shota, or boys in dresses. I have since moved on to the wonders of western Slash and KHR.**

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I always used to watch him stare at himself in the mirror. He would tepidly play with his mass of white hair, tiny fingers entangling themselves here and there. I would watch him in mock interest, wondering why he liked to stare at himself the way he did. What was his problem anyway? I've never really seen anyone stare at themselves like that, not the way he did. My curiosity only piqued when I watched him put on a dab of blush one evening. I never voiced this to anyone: Near's "feminine-side". Well, that's what I liked to call it, since I couldn't really label what he did appropriately. My mind couldn't comprehend why he'd want to plant make-up all over his face, yet I didn't question the matter any further.

Everyday I would watch him, my daily "peep-show" going unnoticed by the silver haired boy. A tube of ruby red lipstick was nestled between his fingers, the bottom half glinting against the light. I watched him glide the thing over his thin lips, a streak of red smearing across his mouth. I licked my own lips. Why did he like trying on that stuff?

A month had soon passed and I found myself still sneaking down to his room after dinner, watching him as he "dolled" himself up. He would play with his hair, nimble fingers gliding across soft, silver strands. Sometimes he would even adorn his hair with pink pins or glittering barrettes of silver and gold. I used to be mesmerized by his graceful movements when he would dip a finger into a tray of dusty blush and rub it gently over his pale cheek. I often found myself with my mouth agape, thinking how pretty he would be if he were only a girl. Really, if only he were a girl. . .

I was perplexed at times, bemused enough that I would often question myself. Were boys supposed to make themselves pretty? I remember going up to Roger one time, asking for a tube of lipstick and a dish of facial powder. He had gaped at me, and then quickly shoved me out the room. I had stared at that closed mahogany door, wondering what I had done wrong. I later found out that a boy who liked to pretty himself up usually wasn't your typical everyday boy, and I had snickered wryly to myself. Of course I wouldn't release that information to Near; I'd let him figure it out on his own.

~x~

It was foggy that day. The mist was slowly starting to creep across the hills that surrounded the Wammy estate, engulfing the entire orphanage within its cold spray. I had been wandering down the hallways, poking my head through each and every door, startling children who were busy entertaining themselves with their childish tendencies.

I suddenly heard the sound of clicks and clacks, a pressing of buttons, and then a string of mild cursing following after. A boy with reddish-brown hair came pattering down the hallway, a DS tightly held within his grasp. His brow was furrowed, pink tongue sticking out in deliberation.

"God damnit!" he cursed, face-palming. Once he realized I was in the vicinity, he immediately smiled and waved to me. I waved back, letting out a smile of my own.

"Wassup' Mello," Matt exclaimed, coming up to tap me on the shoulder. He then resumed his game; goggled-eyes focusing on the tiny screen before him that flickered with vibrant lights and pixilated images. He then quietly left, leaving me to stare after him. I sighed and shook my head, blond strands of hair mussing against my face. Matt was a little too focused on those games of his.

I continued down the hallway, my black boots making hard thumping sounds as I clacked them against the wooden floor. Of course, I didn't care if it disturbed anyone. It was a Saturday, which meant that was my time to act as frivolous as I possibly could before the impending school week decided to reel its ugly head.

I then halted in my tracks, noticing my familiar whereabouts. I was in front of Near's room. The door was slightly open, a small triangle of light creeping over the dusty floorboards. The urge to peep suddenly took hold of me and soon I found myself crouched behind the door, eyes staring absorbedly within the room. I flushed.

Near was there, pink flower clips in his hair. Magenta lipstick glittered across his lips, lavender eye shadow brushed delicately over his eyelids. He was sitting on a white stool, staring at his reflection. His black orbs suddenly darted to mine, noticing my image through the mirror. He spun around, staring at me with a wide mouth. I gasped, falling over. The door opened wide and I found myself sprawled across the ground, my arms and legs twisted at odd angels. I looked up at him, half expecting him to glare at me.

Instead, he was just staring down at me, black eyes distant and void. A pale finger had gone up to twirl around a cascading lock of white hair. I finally took the moment to stare at his attire and my mouth hinged open.

He was wearing a white dress. Silver spaghetti straps wrapped around his shoulders and hung off the curve of his shoulders and the hem of the dress reached down above his knees, exposing the white of his legs. I scrambled to sit up straight, tucking a strand of blond hair behind my ear. Why in the hell was he wearing a dress, weren't they only for girls!? Unless he was some sort of fruit, whatever that meant. I criss-crossed my legs, fingers twiddling with the zippers on my boots. A hefty silence filtered through the room, engulfing me and staining the air distastefully. The lack of sound was unsettling, making my body jitter and tremble in anticipation. What was I supposed to do?!

"Don't tell."

I stared up at him, mouth slightly open. He looked away, a blush forming on his cheeks. His pink lips were parted, his finger hungrily twirling around a lock of hair. I watched his feet shift from side to side. I stood up then and dusted myself off and walked over to him, halting a foot away. He edged back, irked by my closeness, while his hand clutched a golden tube of lipstick, the shiny surface glinting like a sparkling star.

"Why do you like doing that?" I asked curiously, pointing at him. He looked at my finger and then at himself, his hand coming down to drop to his side.

"Doing what?" he asked softly, his fingers rubbing against the tube of lipstick. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, my other hand plucking the lipstick tube out from his hand. I dropped his wrist and waved the tube in the air, watching how the light reflected off of its smooth surface.

"Why do ya' like dressing like a girl?" I asked a bit crudely, fingers still twirling the "evidence" in the air. I watched him blush, his body shivering. He then hung his head, black orbs staring at his jittering feet.

"It makes me feel pretty."

I quirked an eyebrow at him and tilted my head, obviously dumbfounded. I ceased the twirling of the lipstick, dropping the tube to the ground. It made him feel pretty? That was weird, really, really weird. From what I knew, boys didn't go around putting make-up on themselves, or trying to pretty themselves up-- I had never thought about prettying myself up before. Make-up didn't interest me, especially not dresses, so weren't boys supposed to act like boys? Why was Near acting so differently? My throat was starting to constrict and my fingers wouldn't keep still. What was I supposed to say to him now? I gulped, a wad of saliva sliding down my throat.

"B-but..." I stammered, fingers fumbling with the hem of my shirt. "...you're already pretty, Near. Almost like a girl." My face flushed, blood coursing through my veins like molten fire. What did I just say? I took a moment to look at him and watched as a heady blush consumed his face, his eyes quivering. He clutched his hand to his heart, his fingernails gouging into the fabric of his dress. I hesitantly edged closer, my tongue momentarily brushing over my lips as my fingers deftly trailed a nonexistent pattern across his cheeks. I brushed his bangs aside, savoring the way the pads of my fingers against his skin. I gasped quietly when he leaned into my palm, nuzzling against my hand. I backed away at that; I didn't know what I was doing, oh crap, I really didn't know what I was doing. Were boys supposed to feel this way towards other boys, all jittery and strange?

His mouth parted open, dark eyes growing wide. I slowly bent down and retrieved the golden tube of lipstick from the floor and stood back up.. I waved it in front of his face, uncapping the lid.

"You wanna' show me how this works?" I asked, letting a smirk take form on my lips. He let a smile stretch about his mouth, pink lipstick folding over his lips like chalk. He sat back onto his white stool, his legs spread wide and open. He wasn't wearing any underwear, I noticed. Another strange thing to add to my list of "Near Deficiencies".

I walked up to him while staring at the lipstick nestled within the palm of my hand. What was I supposed to do with it; I had never tried putting it on before—not as if I wanted to anyway. I felt his fingers wrap around my wrist, tepidly pulling me forward. He fumbled for the lipstick within my hand and took a firm hold of it. I felt his breath hot against my cheeks, sending small ticklish shivers spiraling underneath my skin.

"Like this," he whispered. I felt the cold solidness of the lipstick glide over my lips, Near's eyes set and steady in application. It was as if he were painting some marvelous picture. I wanted to laugh at his earnestness, but refrained from doing so. He leaned away from me when he finished, as if marveling at his completed masterpiece. He gently placed the tube of lipstick on his drawer, a tiny smile forming across his lips. The pink stuff felt cold and clammy over my mouth and some of it had dotted the front of my teeth. I desperately wanted to lick it off, anything to get the strange feeling to go away, but I quickly decided against it, knowing Near could possibly get upset at such an action.

"It feels weird," I muttered instead, blowing a strand of hair that had fallen over my face. He placed his hands within the pool of his lap, curling his fingers inward.

"It feels nice when I put it on," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. His legs opened wider, the dress rising up his thighs.

"It feels nice?"

He nodded warily and stared at the floor. I stared at him as well, noticing the way his hair fell in around his face like a flower, how his cheeks tinged with the faintest hew of pink and how his eyes quivered in apprehension. I leaned in closer, my face merely inches away from his. His breath caught in his throat, his face flushing over. I kissed him on the cheek and quickly pulled away, eyes tracing over the pink kiss mark that I had left on his skin. He blushed and tried to hide his face with his hands.

"Did that feel nice?" I asked, my head cocking to the side. He shivered, his shoulders trembling. He nodded his head slowly and coughed. I smiled and leaned in again. I couldn't help it. I didn't know what I was doing, doubted he knew either, but I just couldn't resist the temptation. I liked the way his skin felt against my lips. This time, I kissed him at the corner of his mouth. I pulled away again, discovering that his lips had parted and he was now breathing rather heavily. Did I make him that nervous?

"Did that feel nice as well?" I asked again. I watched him quickly nod, his eyes meeting my gaze. His cobalt orbs were dazed and bewildered, his head practically lolling to the side as if it had been unscrewed from his neck. What was up with him? Better yet, where else should I kiss him to make him feel even more... "nice"?

"Where else?" I asked curiously, leaning in closer. He looked at me oddly. I supposed he didn't understand what I was asking him.

"Where else would it feel nice?" I rephrased, as if addressing a toddler. I watched his eyes shoot directly to his opened legs, eyes quivering in wonder. I followed his stare and gulped. I backed away, scratching my head. Why did it have to be there? Couldn't it have been anywhere else? I lowered my head apprehensively, my palms resting atop the swell of his thighs. He jumped, pressing his hands against my own.

"What are you doing?!" he asked nervously, cheeks staining a mute red. I opened his legs wider, gently bunching his dress up his thighs. He leaned back, lips parted.

"It'll make you feel nice, wouldn't it?" I asked. I then started to lean in, inching closer and closer, until the door opened. I quickly withdrew and nearly fell hard on my backside, hands still clutching his thighs. My eyes widened in fear and my jaw dropped almost immediately.

Roger was standing there, feeble hands shaking on the doorknob.

"WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU BOYS DOING?!!"

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**A/N: Sorry for this. **


	2. They Stick Up Too!

**CHAPTER 2:**

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Over the next couple of months I barely saw Near. After Roger had caught me between Near's legs, the old man had pretty much flipped out and separated us for a while. I didn't know what the big deal was, nor did I really want to know anyhow. I hadn't done anything wrong, more or less I didn't even know what I had been doing, but I still didn't understand the whole situation. What's so wrong with kissing someone? I wasn't allowed to see Near; same rules applied with him as well, and I still didn't know what happened to all his make-up accessories, but I think Roger may thrown them away, and I wouldn't be surprised if Near was still "prettying" himself up behind closed doors. That's what he pretty much did most of the time anyway.

During the separation, I realized how different Near and I were. I liked to play outside a lot: soccer, tag, hide-and-seek—you name it. I was bossy, spiteful and ruled over the orphanage with an iron fist.

Near-- he was different. He spent all his precious time indoors with one knee bent to his chest, leaning over a series of difficult blank puzzle games. He went back to them actually, after Roger had caught us and disposed of his accessories. Since then, Near has been even more secluded and distant than usual, and that's saying quite a lot. I remember, about three days after the whole incident, I saw Roger storm out of Near's room with a black trash bag gripped tightly in his hand. I had quietly tiptoed my way to Near's room, peeping into the tiny slit of the door. His usually make-up littered drawer was empty and void, except for a brush that looked to be carelessly thrown on top of the wooden surface. Roger had confiscated practically all of the evidence.

"Oh crap! Move, move, MOVE!!" I winced at the loudness of Matt's shrill voice. I was splayed across his bed while he fiddled with his game console.

"DAMNIT, GET OUT THE GUN!" Matt roared at the TV, flailing his controller in the air, thumbs tapping rapidly across the many buttons littered across his controller. He started mumbling to himself, kicking the ground with his foot. I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him.

"Calm down, Matt. It's just a stupid game," I said to him, throwing a sock at his head. The sock plopped over his brown hair, looking like a deflated gray banana. Matt paused the game, shaking his head in means to pry off the limp sock. He turned to look at me and stuck out his tongue.

"San Andreas isn't just a stupid game," he said defiantly, shooting me a glare. He made a defiant little scowl. "It's pretty kick-ass and it'd be even more kick-ass IF THESE DAMNED COPS WOULD STOP SHOOTING AT ME! I WAS ONLY TRYING TO ROUND UP SOME HOS. Dammit!" I grimaced at him and rolled my eyes, pursing my lips together.

"Do you even know where San Andreas is?" I carefully asked him. The room went silent, save for the steady electrical hum of the TV.

"It's somewhere in the U.S.," he said under his breath. I gave him a curious look and broadened my shoulders.

"Where at in the U.S.?"

"Just somewhere, okay Mr. 20 Questions," he said in a dry tone, waving his hand in dismissal. "Just go away, you're buggin' me." I scoffed at him and narrowed my eyes into a glare, but he merely turned away from me and resumed his game. Jumping off the bed, I kicked on my boots and exited out the door.

It was a dreary Sunday, so nothing much was going on. Roger was in his office as usual, the rest of the kids were outside playing some game or another, and I was stuck inside. I meandered down the hallways, turning into narrow corridors and striding past closed doors. My boots made heavy thumping sounds as they pounded against the wooden floorboards, a resounding echo ricocheting off the walls. It was days like these that made me nearly insane. It was so quiet and boring! I just couldn't take it anymore!

As if they had a mind of their own, my feet halted. I stared at the tiny sliver of light sneaking across the floor through a partially opened door. My heart started to pound as I realized that I was standing in front of Near's room again, like I had that one time.

_'How'd I end up here?'_ I thought, biting down on my lip. I continued to stare at the door, half expecting it to fly off its hinges and lunge out at me. Of course, it didn't do that, but I was sure hoping it would. One more second and I would be on the train to an insane asylum, going crazy from boredom. Cocking my head to the side, I decided that one little peek into Near's room wouldn't do any harm. I crouched beside the door, pressing my face against the tiny opening.

The light coming from the windows was quite bright, despite the clouds that gathered haphazardly outside. The room was empty from what I could see, but I soon found myself blushing as my eyes traveled to his bed. Near was strewn across the mattress, silver hair fanning about his head like a lion's mane. And to make him look even more picturesque, he was wearing nothing but a pair of pink underwear. I gulped and nearly choked on my spit, but managed to keep myself steady so that Near wouldn't find out I was spying on him. I wasn't a peeping tom or anything like that, I was just curious.

"I know you're out there, Mello," Near's voice echoed across the room. I blinked once or twice and pushed open his door, stepping inside. I closed it and hid my arms behind my back. I threw down my head, corn-colored hair mussing over my face to hide the ferocious blush that was threatening to take hold. For a while I just stood there, looking down at the floor as the room was encased in silence.

"What are you doing here?"

I inclined my head and looked over towards the bed where Near was perched. He was still lying there, arms and legs strewn across the bed as if he were a limp corpse. His chest rose and fell and I found myself mesmerized by the tightening of his stomach. It was odd because I didn't expect his stomach to look so...girlish, if one could say. I gulped and moved my feet, heading over towards the bed. I didn't know what I was doing, but I just wanted to get closer.

He stared at me with those hollow eyes of his; face naught of expression. It was amazing how he could look as if he were untouchable, impenetrable. I always wondered at this, never truly understanding as to why he was always so distant from the rest of the world. I used to think that he was an alien, some kind of extraterrestrial being that had been beamed down to earth to observe the human race in a detached fashion. When I had first met him, I thought he would be intent on making my life miserable. He barely talked and when he did, he always seemed to be giving out cryptic clues, half-assed sentences that made you wonder and think yourself stupid. Maybe that's why we didn't get along too well. I really think that his ego is rather large...or maybe it's the other way around?

"Well?"

I looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well what?" I responded, fidgeting under his intense stare. I watched his cheeks turn a rose colored hue before he turned his head away from me. He spread his arms out even wider, rubbing them against the bed in and up and down motion.

"Why don't you come out anymore?" I asked him, getting closer to the bed. He always used to be outside, albeit he didn't do much, he would just sit there staring at some puzzle or rebuild Gundam Models, but at least he was outside. Near didn't answer me; he was too busy with his arms. They were still rubbing against the bed.

Up, down, up, down...

"Is it because of the make-up?" I asked quietly. This caused a reaction from him, for he instantly ceased the movement of his arms. He cocked his head to the side, hollow eyes boring into my own. I stared back, intent on winning this staring contest. He always made me feel inferior, even if he wasn't trying to. I supposed it was just his aura that spelled out pure superiority.

"I'm not pretty anymore."

I stared at him, mouth partially opened. I truly didn't know what to say, what could I say anyway? Last time, I embarrassed myself by telling him that he was in fact pretty. I clenched my fingers together and shook my head. There was no way I was going to say it again.

I found it quite odd that this whole dramatic scenario was based entirely upon make-up. Who would be depressed over make-up? Besides, Near was a boy, he was going to have to suck it up and start acting like one. I stared at him, eyes traveling over his body. He sure didn't act like an ordinary boy though. I mean, his superior intellect was far beyond comparison, but he didn't act like a normal boy should. He wore dresses for crying out loud! Sure, he never wore them outside, but he still wore them. Are boys even supposed to do that?

"I don't feel nice."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. So what if he didn't feel nice, what was I supposed to do about it?

"So," I responded, scratching my arm. He looked at me, his eyes soft and slanted. His cheeks were turning red, his lips partially opened. He looked too innocent, like a pure flower. It amazed me that he had that kind of power, the power of innocence, and sometimes I wish I had it. My reputation was too...rambunctious.

"Remember last time," he said softly, extending his arms and taking a deep breath. "You made me feel nice. Do it again." My eyes widened and I stared at him in awe. So that was what he meant...

I looked around the room, my eyes averting to the door that was still open. I was stuck—I didn't really want to do anything to get myself in trouble again, but at the same time the rush and excitement from it all made me actually want to. I looked back at Near, who was staring at me with some sort of need in his eyes. I know that he wanted me to kiss him again, that much I could make out, but I didn't want to risk the chance of getting caught.

"You can feel nice on your own," I said quickly, slowly backing away to the door. "Go solve a puzzle or something." He watched me with a weary eye, his body propped on his elbows now. The door was getting closer and closer, so close that I could practically book it and run!

"Mello," Near said softly, his eyes wide and timid. What was he so scared about? I watched his face twist in gloom, his head dropping and his eyes turning moist. He wasn't going to cry now was he? Really, what a fruitcake. However, despite feeling that way, I stopped myself from backing away and fixed my eyes solely on him. Even though I never endowed sympathy upon others, I still didn't like it when people cried. I didn't know exactly why I felt so compassionate when the waterworks began, but I sure didn't like it. It always seemed as if I were the one causing the tears.

"Near?" I said quietly. I looked back at the door, still deciding if I should leave or not. I sighed to myself and closed it shut. If he was going to cry, then I guess it couldn't be helped. I walked over towards his bed, towering over him. He removed his hands from his eyes and looked up at me, face flushed and cheeks moist. He blinked once or twice before taking a deep breath. I leaned over him, running a finger over his cheeks. He picked up his hand and placed it down on my own. He tenderly brushed his lips over my skin and kissed it, letting go of my hand, and scraped a few locks of silver hair from out of his face, his feet shifting against the bed.

"Do you really feel that terrible?" I asked, entwining my fingers into the sheets of the bed. He nodded hesitantly, as if bashful. I snorted and sighed, shaking my head. I clambered onto the bed, the mattress squeaking under the added pressure. If I had really made him feel that pleasant, then the least I could do was supply him with a bit of happiness, right? I crawled over to him, placing a knee between his legs and planting my hands down on either side of his head. My hair tumbled over his face, in which he scrunched his nose and sneezed. I smiled at him. I'd have to admit, sometimes he was cute. He shifted from underneath me, his breath coming out short and uneven. I quirked an eyebrow. Why did he always act like that?

"Ah," he winced, a flood of red rushing out onto his cheeks. I leaned in closer, trying to find out why he had made such a sound. I found that my right knee was practically kneading against the place between his legs. His thighs had instinctively spread wider and he was breathing even more heavily than before. What was going on down there...?

"I'm sorry," I quickly said, about to remove my leg. Instead, he wrapped his thighs around my knee, halting me from any further movement. What was I even doing here, on his bed, on top of him, pink girl's underwear...Where did it all fit in? I leaned in into his face and breathed across his cheek, licking my lips as I felt him tremble beneath me. He shivered and tried to get closer by grinding himself against my knee. It was strange-- I wasn't doing this for myself, but I was doing it for him. I didn't want him to feel sad anymore and if this was the only way to get him happy again, then I suppose I could go along with it. I sighed inwardly.

I knew I was denying certain things. As I kissed his cheek, I tried to ignore the tingly sensation pooling at the pit of my stomach. I brushed off the feeling of his skin against mine and I certainly didn't allow any kisses to further entice me.

Who was I kidding; no one was that strong. Even though I denied these feelings, they were still very much there, only growing more and more frivolous. I didn't know what I was doing, the feelings and sensations were foreign and I certainly didn't know how to handle them. You could say I was a bit scared. I couldn't go ask Roger why my "peeing instrument" suddenly started throbbing at the mere thought of a certain someone. Was it even healthy for it to be sticking up like that anyway?

I brushed my lips over his own, both of our lips meeting in tandem, and I enjoyed the way he shivered at the simple contact. He allowed me to devour his lips, so much so that he parted his lips and flailed his tongue. I was a bit shocked when he did that, because it had felt...so foreign. Of course, the foreign feeling quickly ebbed away and I started to enjoy it...a lot. I burrowed my nose into the nape of his neck, planting tiny kisses down his throat. His back arched and his abdomen pressed against mine, my knee nearly crashing in between his legs.

"Mmmm..." he mumbled, closing his eyes. I smiled at him. I had never seen his face like that before, all wild and full of color.

"Does it feel nice?" I asked him. I rubbed my knee against him.

"Ahh," he moaned, his tiny fingers clutching onto my shirt. It seemed he enjoyed that certain spot. I drew away from him, my eyes scanning over his body. I leaned back, looking at the spot between his legs. There was a bump there. I looked around the room, frowning suspiciously. Who gave him that bump? I poked a finger at it and he jumped, spreading his legs wider. I poked at it again.

"Ah!" he gasped, arching his back. "Stop! I-it...feels weird." I smiled at him. He was leaning on his elbows again, his hair all messy and unkempt. I shrugged.

"You said you wanted to feel nice," I said to him. I brought my head down and kissed him there, right between the legs. He shuddered and flopped back onto the bed. I placed my hands at his hips, rubbing the tips of my fingers over his underwear. He looked at me and blushed.

"W-what are you going to do?" he asked nervously. I brushed him off and continued. I slid his underwear down and drew my head back. I quickly backed away when his "thing" suddenly popped out and stared directly at me. I shifted my eyes around the room before I looked at it again. It was sticking up! Was it going to attack me or something?!

Near shifted from underneath me, clearly embarrassed at the incredulous look scrawled across my face..

"Don't look," he said in a whisper. He made to shut his legs, but I opened them again. I smiled. At least I wasn't alone in this. I was about to lean in when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed outside the hallway. I immediately froze and retreated. Near, also hearing the footsteps quickly drew up his underwear and shut his legs. We stared at each other for a moment, trying to hold our breaths.

"Near!!" a voice echoed across the corridor. I nearly died on the spot. It was Roger! And he was heading towards Near's room! As each horrifying second ticked past, the footsteps grew louder. When they were practically outside the door, the panic started to set in.

"Under the bed!" I hissed at Near. He quickly nodded and I took his hand. We dropped to the floor in a flurry as I rolled him under first. I followed after him, trying to keep as quiet as possible. I was next to Near, his bare skin against my own. I shivered but quickly pushed the "naughty" thoughts away. It was no time to be thinking of such things anyway, what with Roger practically standing outside the door.

Near held onto my hand as we heard the rattle of the doorknob turn, following by the steady creaking of the door being opened. Time stood still as we shivered next to each other.

Crap, we were trapped underneath the bed.


	3. Night Blowing

**Chapter 3**

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I couldn't even describe how scared I was- same went for Near. We were both shivering like mad, his hand still wrapped tightly over my own. Near scooted closer, subconsciously rubbing his cheek on my shoulder while I shivered and rubbed my thumb against the palm of his hand.

The door opened, a pair of feet thumping across the floor. I cocked my head and tried to gain better access to the unwanted intruder. It was definitely Roger; I could recognize his boring old shoes anywhere. He went about the room, as if hoping for the little white haired boy currently lying next to me to suddenly jump right out and spring into action.

"Where is that boy?" I heard Roger mumble to himself. After a couple of long seconds, he all together left the room, shutting the door behind him with a gentle click.

Once I surmised that everything was clear, I let out a deep breath and tapered sigh. My body then relaxed, the anxiety and panic quickly ebbing away. I squeezed Near's hand and turned to look at him, expecting to find an expression of relief, however his expression was clearly the opposite.

Near's eyes were squinting together, a glassy look to them, as if he were about to cry. I could tell he was trying to keep the tears in, what with his flushed face and trembling bottom lip- I bet his chest hurt. Believe me, I didn't cry, Mello never cries, but I've shared the same feeling before. Albeit, I was only around four at the time, but I knew what it was like to cry. Your chest starts to contract, like all your muscles are pinching together and you just feel so out of breath that you think you're going to die. Well, maybe it wasn't as horrific as that, but pretty close.

"Near," I said in a whisper. He brought his other hand to his face, nimble fingers brushing across his closed eyelids. His eyelashes fluttered open, tiny droplets of liquid sliding down his cheeks. He sniffled once or twice before turning his head away from me. Was he ashamed?

"Don't...cry," I sighed. I truly hated it when other people cried and lo and behold, the one who was crying was right next to me. Did I have some sort of emotional reactor that made people cry within a five inch radius from me?

I watched his body jitter, his shoulders trembling. He was probably letting his tears flow, what with his head turned away like that. I sighed once again and squeezed his hand. Allowing myself to shift onto my side, I wrapped an arm around his bare stomach. He flinched at my touch, but didn't move any further.

I tried to move and roll him over so that his face could lean against my chest...but he was resisting. Actually, I thought it was a bit funny. At every attempt, he'd shake his head, making his body go stiff and straight. After many failed efforts, I gave up. What a spazz.

My eyes scanned his body, searching for any weak spots. As I neared his thighs, I immediately knew what spot to test.

His thing.

With a quick swish of my hand, I gripped it in a firm hold.

"Ah!" he shrieked. I acted quickly upon the given chance. I wrapped my arm around his hips, flipping him over so that he could face me. I brought him into a hug, bringing his head down to lay upon my chest. Normally, I would never EVER do this sort of thing. I wasn't the type to act all innocent and mushy, Near was good at that, but not I.

"You're...mean," I heard him mumble against the fabric of my shirt. I could feel his tears seep through, seeping across my skin.

"Just be quiet," I said quickly, breathing into his shoulder. He shivered for a moment, then let his muscles go limp. His body relaxed against mine, his fingers playing with the strands of my hair.

"You cry too much," I said to him, hugging him close. He rubbed his cheek against my chest and coughed.

"I was scared."

I looked down at him and brushed his bangs aside. He looked up at me then, his eyes still moist with tears and his cheeks tinted a rosy red. I quickly averted my gaze, afraid that I too would blush in front of him. It was simply amazing how he could look like that, so innocent like. Sometimes he reminded me of a bunny.

Yes. A bunny.

It was the perfect animal to describe him as. Some bunnies were white, such as Near's hair, skin and clothing (besides the underwear). Bunnies were cute, shy and always found some kind of reason to run away when approached. In a way, Near was like a bunny too, minus the mass reproduction of offspring.

On the other hand, I was completely opposite. Girls had called me cute before, so I could pass as a bunny as well. I was a bit distant myself, anger-wise, but I wasn't shy. Perhaps I would be classified as the Demon Rabbit, I wouldn't know, but I sure as heck wasn't the same type of bunny as Near was. I bit my tongue on purpose, realizing how ridiculous my thoughts were. Seriously, who in their right mind would start classifying people as different types of bunny?

"What are you thinking about?"

I was shaken from my thoughts when Near's soft voice floated through my ears. I blinked my eyes once or twice and stared down at him. He was looking up at me with one eyebrow cocked, his head tilted to the side.

"Um, nothing interesting," I quickly responded, trying not to look him in the eye.

"But, it seems that you're...somewhere else."

You got that right. I was off in Easter Land, floating on a cloud of chocolate eggs. I didn't answer him- not like I could give a clear explanation. So I settled for an easier one.

"You're just cute," I said quietly, a blush rising on my cheeks. "Like a bunny."

Silence.

For a few long moments, neither of us spoke. Everything went silent, even the sound of our breathing, the thumping of our hearts, nothing.

I went stiff when Near huddled into me, wrapping his legs around my thigh. He continued to play with my hair, twirling many strands around his fingers like a loom. I tried to fight the leering blush that threatened to jump me, believe me I tried, but I knew that I had failed when Near placed a finger to my cheek, letting out a tiny snicker.

Desperate to break the overwhelming tension, I nuzzled my nose into the crook of his neck and sneezed.

"I think I'm allergic to you," I breathed. He shivered and trembled, wrapping his other arm around my waist. Why did he always act so weird? And then my eyes grew wide. My thigh was starting to feel very warm...and something was poking against it. I looked down to see that Near was nearly crushing my thigh with his legs.

'Oh,' I thought, trying to hide my embarrassment. 'His thing is...poking me.' For a few moments, I just laid there, trying to keep as still as humanly possible. I closed my eyes, trying to will all the dirty thoughts away. I was afraid that my thing would start sticking up too.

When my thigh grew unbearably hot, I decided that enough was enough.

"N-near...umm...can you go away?" I asked shakily. A tingly sensation was starting to pool itself at the pit of my stomach. I didn't want that feeling to get too out of control, so the only thing that would be able to keep it at bay was to distance those feelings away from the stimulator.

Near pushed himself away from me. His legs were still tightly wrapped around my thigh, but he had his arms out in front of him. He stared at me with cold eyes, his black orbs naught of emotion. He truly scared me when he did that. It made me, anyone for that matter, feel so...uncomfortable, as if you couldn't reach him. Crap, I hope I didn't sound too mean.

"Fine," he said quietly. He scooted away from me, unwrapping himself from my body. I watched as his partially naked self crawled its way out from under the bed. He stood up and all I could see were his feet padding against the floor.

I stared up at the bottom of the mattress frame, watching how the springs and coils bound together as Near sat upon the bed. I sneezed once again, finally deciding that it was time to get out.

I crawled across the floor, sticking my head out from underneath the bed. I looked up and almost gasped, but I quickly slapped the palm of my hand to my mouth. Near was peering over the edge of the bed, silver strands of hair falling over his shoulder. His eyes were still hollow and void, his lips a straight dull line.

"Hi, Near," I said meekly, making my way out from under the bed. I stood up, dusting myself off. Once finished with that, I whirled around and faced Near. He was sitting with one knee brought to his chest. His fingers were entwined in that ghostly colored hair of his, a mask of cold ice plastered on his face. Plus, he had his usual white pajamas on.

"You change pretty fast," I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Again, no answer. He continued to stare at me for a while before he raised up a dainty wrist and pointed his index finger towards the door. I stared at his finger and then at the door, trying to put two and two together.

"Oh," I realized. He wanted me to get out. Without any hesitation, I ran to the door and closed it behind me. Once in the hallway, I threw my body against the wall, leaning against it with my head tilted up.

That was odd.

After Near had unceremoniously kicked me out, I had gone outside and played a few round of games with the other kids. Now I was in my room, my feet aching. I threw myself on my bed, relishing the way the cold blankets rubbed against my skin. It was night now, a little bit past my bedtime, since I had gone to Matt's room and we played a whole load of video games after dinner, and I was fairly tired.

I ventured my eyes over to the window, where the moon hung pale amid the night sky, stars twinkling around it like a shining blanket. I always liked the night. It made me feel fresh; crisp if you will. I think I was more of a night person than a day person actually. Except for tonight though, tonight...I was tired.

I threw my arm over the edge of my bed, my fingers searching for the white t-shirt that served as my nightshirt. I only slept in a shirt. Who needed a whole complicated set of pajamas like a button up shirt and pair of pants? Just slap me on a baggy t-shirt and I was done. Besides, I didn't like sleeping with the blankets on anyway.

After kicking off my shoes, turning off the light and changing into my nightshirt, I threw myself back upon the bed. My head landed with a soft thud against the fluffy pillows, my body relaxing immediately.

I didn't want to think about Near at the moment, I didn't even want to dream of him for that matter. Right now, all I needed was the night sky, a comfy bed, and a visit to the Sand Man. As of the moment, that was all that I wanted.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was starting to sweat.

I knew I was still sleeping, still trapped within my dreams, but it also felt like I was back in the real world.

I started to tremble, a tingly sensation washing over my body. Something was happening to me, something odd and foreign. I couldn't describe the feeling, it felt good, but at the same time it felt really uncomfortable, like you couldn't move.

I was shaking, my fingers coiling around invisible air. I wanted to explode, to spill my insides and holler like a wolf. The sensation was all too overwhelming, so overwhelming that I thought I would burst at any second.

I didn't know why, but I had the sudden urge to spread my legs wider. And that I did.

"Hahhhh!" I moaned.

I heard someone gasp in shock (or was it fear?), the bed creaking under another added weight. I wasn't alone.

I shot up right, my fingers gripping the sheets. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened as I stared at a figure sitting at the edge of the bed.

Near was sitting there, his face flushed and his hair slightly wet. What I found oddly peculiar was that his face, particularly his mouth, was covered with some white gooey liquid.

"N-near?" I asked shakily. I heard him gulp, as if swallowing something, before he hung his head in embarrassment. A sudden gust of cold air brought me to my senses and I stared down at myself.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

"WHERE'S MY UNDERWEAR?"

* * *

**A/N: Oh gawd.**


	4. Swallow

**Chapter 4**

I couldn't stop staring at him. What had he been doing to me?

I gulped and stared down at myself, my cheeks flushing at my nakedness. My thing was covered with the same white gooey liquid that Near also had surrounding his mouth. I quickly grabbed a pillow and stuffed the soft thing between my legs. How embarrassing.

I looked back up, trying to give Near the quizzical eye. Seriously, what had he been doing?

"Why are you here?" I asked, trying to put on my best stern expression. I watched Near's shoulders tremble as his fingers fidgeted and his bottom lip trembled. He let out a tiny cough, I figured he did this when he was nervous or embarrassed, and crossed his legs.

It took me a great amount of time to notice that he wasn't wearing any underwear either, in which my face flushed as red as a tomato, but I managed to calm myself and avert my eyes elsewhere.

We just sat there, neither of us saying anything. We were both too afraid to shatter the unwarrantable silence. I was the first one to break it though.

"What were you doing to me?" I asked wryly, my eyebrow arching in suspicion. Near shifted in his seat, something clearly irking him. What was with him anyway? He was constantly moving someway or another, like he had to go pee.

I removed the pillow from between my legs and spread my legs open. I pointed an index finger down at my thing and demanded an explanation.

"What did you do to me?"

"Ah!" Near suddenly gasped. He leaned over, the palms of his hands smacking against the bed. He was breathing really heavily now, his whole body quivering and shaking. I just stared at him, too afraid to move. What was wrong with him?

"Near?" I called to him, worry starting to ebb through my voice. Was he hyperventilating? He was making the oddest of noises...

"I-it...won't go away!" he whimpered, his fingers clenching the sheets. He was gasping, his hair sticking to his face.

"What won't go away?"

Near looked up at me through the wild strands of hair that shadowed over his eyes. His cheeks were flushed a dark crimson and his expression took on a form of utter need and hopelessness. I was starting to worry, which explained the tiny droplets of sweat that had begun to form on my forehead.

He was starting to tremble, his mouth parted open in a little "o". I watched as his fingers clenched the sheets on the bed, his body rocking back and forth.

"Near?" I asked, crawling on my hands and knees towards him. He looked at me for a second and blushed, letting out a tiny groan.

"Mmm," he mumbled. He was leaning over himself now, his hands cupped at a place between his legs. Now what did he have to hide there?

"I don't know..." he said wistfully. "...how to make it go away." He removed his hand from between his legs and spread them open, giving me a full view at the "problem". I quickly looked away, coughing slightly to hide my embarrassment. So his "thing" was sticking up full force then.

Trying not to venture any lower than his stomach, I cleared my throat and allowed my mind to remain calm. His "thing" was obviously bothering him, so to make this as quick as possible (and so that he could get out of my room), I would try to help him with his little dilemma.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, crossing my legs. I looked down at myself and gasped, realizing that I still had no underwear on. I quickly folded my hands over my naked spot and straightened my posture. I had to remain in control.

"It...doesn't hurt," he whispered, his shoulders trembling. "I don't know how it feels. It's weird."

"It feels like I wanna' go pee!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking. I know it was wrong of me to think of this, but I just wanted to laugh at him. He looked so unprepared and so helpless, that it made my body want to rivet in hysterical laughter. Of course, I wouldn't be so cruel as to do that. I managed to retain my dignity...most of the time.

I crawled closer to him, a wry smile playing upon my lips. I guess it wouldn't hurt to toy with him...well...I just wouldn't go over board.

Sensing my advancements, he quickly straightened himself and placed his hands over his "thing", hiding it from view. His cheeks grew more red and he looked away from me, staring outside the window.

I placed myself directly in front of him, my body only inches away from his. I tilted my head, allowing a part of my hair to drape over my face.

"Let me see," I whispered. Near quickly shook his head, his eyes searching frantically about the room. I placed my hand over his own and tried to pry them off, but his grip remained firm and strong.

"It's only going to get worse," I said to him, tucking a strand of white hair behind his ear. He let out a shaky breath, his fingers trembling and removed his hands. I stared down at his erect "thing" thoughtfully, trying to put an end to the matter. Did it hurt him or something?

"What were you doing to me?" I asked, leaning my head in closer. "When I was asleep." I blew at the spot in between his legs.

"Hahh," he moaned, his legs spreading wider. I glimpsed up at him and found his head tilted upward, his eyes shut and mouth closed as if he were trying to fight off his loud moans.

Interesting.

I breathed on it again, trying to get an answer out of him.

"What were you doing?"

"I was trying to get yours..." he finally answered. "...to stick up too." He shivered and placed a tiny hand over mine, his black orbs cutting into my own.

"Did it work, whatever you did?" I asked carefully, still blowing air on it.

"Haaah," he moaned again, arching his back. "I-I...I was touching it, but, it didn't work too well." He let out another shaky breath and bit back on his lip.

"So?" I drawled on, retreating from his legs. I sat straight up, staring face to face with him.

"So?" he repeated softly.

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him.

"What did you do after that?"

I heard him gulp, his head turning away. I saw his cheeks blush an impossible shade of red before he turned his head to look back at me.

"I sucked on it."

My eyes widened, my mind utterly confused. He sucked on my "thing"? Was that a new trend or something?

"You were saying weird stuff in your sleep," Near whispered, letting out a tiny sniffle. "It seemed like you liked it...a lot, so I didn't stop until that white stuff came out and you woke up."

"Was my thing sticking up too?" I asked questionably. I wonder if it was.

He nodded and placed his hands on either side of him.

"But...after the white stuff came out, it went down."

He decided to relay the information by using his hands, waving his tiny fingers in the air, his arms forming a circle shape. He then made a clicking (popping) noise with his tongue and slapped his hands together. I stared down at my thing and sighed a sigh of relief. At least it hadn't exploded like Near's rigorous demonstration had.

Well, by the looks of it, it did explode, but not in that sense.

I sighed wearily and gulped. I then looked back down at his "thing", still standing proud and tall, and decided upon one thing. I would have to make it explode too.

"I know what to do now," I said slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I shifted my weight to my knees and stood upon them, smacking the palms of my hands on the bed.

As my face drew closer, Near inched back. He was starting to shake terribly, so much that I could feel the vibrations echoing off the bed.

"What are you gonna' do?" he asked in a shaky voice. His hair was messy and he was starting to sweat.

To stop him from moving, I clamped my hands over his, stopping him from further retreat. He let out a tiny gasp, but didn't do anything as I drew him closer.

"So you just sucked on it, yeah?" I asked, getting closer and closer to his "thing". He nodded clumsily and spread his legs wider, looking down at me from his angle of depression.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it. Well of course, since it was like right there in front of my face, but nonetheless...very warm. For a moment or two, I just stood there, looking down at it. Should I even be doing this? He said that it had worked for me, which was why my own "thing" was covered with white goo, so it should work for him as well...hopefully. I gulped once more and managed to calm myself.

I hope he didn't pee on me.

With a final moment to gain my confidence, I parted my lips and opened my mouth wide enough for "it" to fit in, and with that, I went down.

"Ahh," Near moaned, arching his back. I nearly choked as his hips thrusted into my mouth. I coughed for a few seconds, but managed to regain myself.

'Just think of it as a lollipop,' I thought to myself. It wasn't as bad as I thought though. It was very warm, very very warm and squishy and not at all like a lollipop. I slowed myself down at a steady rhythm, bobbing my head up and down as Near squirmed in front of me.

"Hahh...ah, ah, ah."

As I continued to suck, I slowly started to feel a warm sensation pool at the pit of my stomach. My eyes widened as I realized what it was.

'Oh god...again?' I thought crudely. It was inevitable. I could feel my own arousal starting to perk itself into being. I blushed, but realized that I didn't have to hide it, for Near's head was titled back with his lips parted in a silent scream. With each suck, Near moaned, and with each moan, my "thing" stuck up more. Ahhh, bad combination.

Near's body began to shake terribly as he arched his back full force. His slender fingers gripped through my hair with death defying force, practically ripping my head off.

"It's...I'm gonna'...ahhh, ahhh..." I sucked harder and faster, trying to keep in pace with his moans. And then finally...

"Hahhh!"

My eyes widened when a gooey liquid shot into my mouth, sending me sputtering and nearly choking. I retreated from him, the white goo dripping off my mouth onto the bed. His "thing" had gone down, thank god, and it was also coated with a thin layer of the same white goo. I could still feel the liquid swishing in mouth against my tongue. I held it there, like a cup of water, before I all together swallowed it down.

I squinted my eyes and grimaced as the bitter taste ran down my throat. I heaved and wiped my mouth, willing the salty taste away. Too strong.

Near collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. His chest was heaving and his hair was even messier than before, his cheeks as red as a tomato.

I shifted into a better position, in which I let out a tiny yelp as I found out that it wasn't such a good idea to move at the moment. My own "thing" was already alert and starting to feel weird. I didn't want to tell him that though, he could figure it out on his own. Besides, he had already sucked on it before and I don't think that he would want to do it again either.

Trying to ignore the feisty feeling, I scooted my body closer to Near's, throwing myself on top of him. I could feel my "thing" rub against his stomach, still coated with white liquid. We really needed to take a bath after this.

Near relaxed, his little arms wrapping themselves around my back. I smiled up at him and drew my face closer, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"Feel better?" I breathed. He shivered for a moment and nodded.

"How did it feel?" I asked, my fingers tracing circle patterns over his bare skin.

"It felt like I had to go pee, but then...I don't usually moan when I go pee, so it was different."

I laughed at him and drew myself back, getting off the bed. Near sat up as well, looking after me as I searched for a towel in the closet.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly. I managed to find two yellow towels and closed the closet. I then turned around and threw one at him as I draped the other one over my shoulder.

"We need to take a bath," I simply answered. Realizing that I was still naked, I thought it best to drape the towel over my waist than over my shoulder. After readjusting it, I went over to Near and grabbed his wrist, heaving him off of the bed. I grabbed the towel from out of his hand, fixed it into place around his waist and ushered him to the door.

"We have to be quiet though, so don't talk loudly. And when we get to the bathrooms, we gotta' lock the door," I told him quietly. He simply nodded and smiled, putting a finger to his lips. I grinned at him and opened the door.

We both entered out into the hallway, the darkness enveloping our tiny forms. We padded down dark corridors and passed by closed doors until we finally reached the door that we had wanted. I turned the knob and pushed it open. We stepped inside and flicked on the light, shutting the door behind us and locking it with a tiny click.

The cold tiled floor felt good against my bare feet and I relished the feeling as I headed over towards the bathtub. I turned a few knobs and a healthy stream of warm water was pouring like a waterfall out of the faucet.

I could already feel the steam rise around the room, fogging the bathroom mirror. I sat upon the ridge of the bathtub, dangling my feet in the air while patting the seat next to me.

Near sat down beside me, smoothing out the creases in his towel. We sat there for a few minutes, just listening to the sound of the water rushing down and enjoying the somewhat silence. Then it was broken when Near spoke up.

"Was what we did wrong?" he asked quietly, looking up at the ceiling. I sat there, contemplating the question thoughtfully. Was it wrong? I hadn't really thought upon that at all. I guess you could say it was rather weird for boys to be doing those sorts of things to other boys. I mean, Near wearing make up and girls clothes was weird in itself, actually...weird on a whole other level, so I guess you could say what we were doing was...frowned upon. Heck, I didn't even know what we were doing anyway!

I looked behind me and found that the water had filled the entire tub, so I turned the knobs and shut the faucet off.

"Bath's ready," I chimed, smiling at him. I unwrapped my towel from around my waist and threw my legs over the ridge. I slowly lowered myself in, letting the warmth of the water wrap around my body in a heated caress.

"Feels nice," I said to him. He was still sitting on the ridge, staring at me. I quirked an eyebrow and tilted my head. Why wasn't he coming in?

"Aren't you gonna' come in?" I asked, patting the water with the palm of my hands. He blushed a bit and twirled a finger through the clear fluid, swishing his finger back and forth.

"Together?" he asked softly. He looked at me for a brief second, then turned his head away. I stuck my tongue out at him, even though he didn't see it, and splashed some water at him.

"Of course together," I answered. "It'd take longer if we did it one at a time." I stretched out my hand and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, gently pulling him in. He let his muscles go limp after a brief tense moment and eased into the water along side me.

He slid himself towards the front of the bath tub, where the faucet was, with his back facing towards me. I didn't know why he had to sit so far away, he was probably just scared, but it did leave a rather huge gap.

"I'm not gonna' bite," I said to him, crossing my arms. He turned his head over his shoulder, looking at me with a sideways glance.

"It'd be easier to clean myself," he answered quickly, and resumed the front again. I smiled to myself and thought the response over. Of course I would have a counter attack for that one.

"Actually, it'd be easier to have me wash you. I don't think you'd be able to wrap your arms all the way around your back."

"Whatever," he answered and let his shoulders fall. I gruffed and slapped the palm of my hand against the water. I didn't know why he was acting so difficult and so touchy-feely. It kind of annoyed me, since I wasn't a very patient person, so most of the times when he'd act like this...it made me want to slap him. Of course, I would never do that, only if he'd slap first.

I scooted myself closer, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him to my chest. His skin felt so soft, like a silk dress. I rubbed my fingers against his flesh, loving the feel of it. I leaned forward, resting my head upon his back as my arms tightened their hold around his waist.

"Are you mad at me?" I breathed against his skin. Maybe he really was angry with me. Perhaps, back at my room, I had ventured a little too deep into his personal space. But...he was the one who had started it, so no use in blaming me. He took part in it too.

Near leaned into my chest, slouching down so that the tip of my chin fitted into the crook of his neck.

"No, I'm not mad," he said. I could feel the vibrations on his neck as he talked. It felt nice, like a soothing lullaby.

"Then what?"

"Then what, what?"

"If you're not mad, then what are you?"

"I'm- Agh!"

I quickly drew my head up, hugging him close and peering over his shoulder. What happened?

"Ugh...hahh," he moaned, his brow furrowing.

"What's wrong?" I asked frantically, pressing into him.

"AGH!" he screamed, his eyes shooting open. His teeth were clenched and his cheeks were frighteningly red. Oh crap, I hope he wasn't dying.

"Near, tell me!" I shouted at him, shaking his shoulders. This seemed to only further hurt him, for he screamed really loudly.

"Stop!" he said, his voice shaky and raspy. "Something's inside..."

"What's inside?" I asked quickly, trying to draw away from him.

"Ugh! Mello, stop it!" he yelped, clamping his hands down over my knees. The adrenaline within me reached its full limit. I didn't even know what I was doing to him! Whatever it was, it was sure hurting him in some way or another, but I couldn't do anything unless I knew what I was doing.

"You're stupid!" I yelled at him out of frustration. He hiccuped and threw a glance at me from over his shoulder. His eyes were already wet and ready to overflow.

"Look down!" he shouted in anger. Obeying his feisty command, I tilted my head downwards, in which my eyes nearly bulged right out of my head. My "thing"...oh my god, it was too embarrassing to describe. I clenched my fists and shut my eyes.

"Oh my god, you swallowed it!"

**A/N: hahhhhhhhhhhh.**


	5. Let's Do It Together!

**Gah, I'm so sorry for not updating in a while. It's been very long since I last updated the story. Anyways, enjoy the chapter and please leave a review on your way out!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote in any way, shape or form. If I did, then L, Near and Mello would already be crossdressing by now. **

**WARNING: IF YOU DETEST SHOTA PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER, YOU MAY BE DISGUSTED. **_**seriously, don't read if you don't like.**_

**CHAPTER 5: LET'S DO IT TOGETHER**

_"Look down!" he shouted in anger. Obeying his feisty command, I tilted my head downwards, in which my eyes nearly bulged right out of my head. My "thing"...oh my god, it was too embarrassing to describe. I clenched my fists and shut my eyes._

_"Oh my god, you swallowed it!!!"_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXD_

Crap.

Crap.

Crap.

"Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT!"

I nearly fainted when Near screamed out like that. The sound waves were still echoing full throttle throughout my ears. He was starting to thrash about in the water, trying to get as far away from me as possible. He was having a hard time.

"Get it out Mello!"

"Will you shut up?! I'm trying to, sheesh!"

Well, I wasn't really trying to exactly. I didn't want to move at all, I was just too shocked. It felt ultra weird for me to be "inside" of him. Scratch that. It felt just plain wrong, so you couldn't really blame me for not trying to get it out right away.

"Mello," Near whined, arching his back. "Please, get it out..."

My eyes were starting to water. I guess I was getting so panicky that I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I was hurting him in anyway or if we would stay stuck like this forever.

'What would Roger say?' I asked to myself, grimacing. Roger's red face flashed through my mind like a raging bullet, reminding me of the impending dangers that usually followed after spending "time" with Near.

"Mello..." His voice was soft now. Why was he talking like that? I sure as heck wouldn't sound so calm after having something shoved up my...

"Stay still," I whispered, letting my body relax. We had to be calm and rational about this. If either of us were to main in a panic-stricken state, then there would be a very high chance that we might hurt each other, both physically and mentally.

Near did as he was told, his back hitting my chest with a gentle plopping noise. I shivered.

"Ah."

I held my breath. What just happened? I gulped and peered over Near's shoulder. I guess if one were to see the look on my face they would probably see the confusion written there.

Near's head was tilted back, resting on my color bone while his hair tickled my shoulders. His eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering up and down. I would have thought that he would have an expression of pain on his face, but it was far from it.

His cheeks were stained with the lightest shade of red, his breathing labored. I raised an eyebrow. Near was so confusing sometimes. Shouldn't he be in pain and agony? Why did he look so calm and...serene?

I leaned into him, resting my chin into the crook of his neck.

"A-ah," he moaned, his back arching. His head tilted towards me, eyes staring into mine. There was some kind of emotion labeled in those eyes of his, an emotion that I knew was there and existed, but could never fully understand what it meant. That probably had to do with the fact that I didn't want to know.

"Doesn't it hurt?" I asked casually, curiosity taking the best of me. A minute ago, it was as if I had tore him in two. Now...it looked as if he were actually enjoying it.

I pressed into him some more, resting my fingers on his hips. Again, he let out a tiny moan.

Interesting reaction.

"Near?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice gentle. Near turned his head, silver hair brushing over his eyes. He looked at me with a sort of jaded lassitude, as if all the energy had been drained out of him. He looked weak.

"Does it feel nice?"

He just kept on staring me with those weary eyes of his, then turned away. I was about to protest on his silent rejection when he did something that I would have never expected him to do: he pushed himself into me.

I stared at him incredulously. What in the world was he trying to do?

"I wanted to see..." he started, voice barely above a whisper. "...how it felt like." He leaned into me once more, plopping his back along my chest. His shoulders lost the lock of tension and they fell into relaxation.

I tried not to think about how awkward it felt to be so close to him. I felt like I wanted to hug him, but would it be too weird? I knew there was a word to describe this feeling of contentment with him resting against me as if I were in a safe and comfortable bed. Did he feel comfortable with me then?

A warm and fuzzy feeling filled me, a smile forming on my lips. For some reason, it felt nice (not in a sexual way) to be close to him, to have his guard let down without adorning that mask of non-chalant dullness that he usually wore. I liked to see him this way: his expressions, actions, language and so forth.

With our naked skin touching and cheeks flushed pink, I felt closer to him than ever before. Even more so than what he had done to me back in my bedroom; I felt elated.

"It feels...nice," I heard him say, voice still soft as a feather. "It feels kinda' like what we did in your room...but different." He pressed into me and smiled.

"Very different," he added.

Why he was taking the initiative, I had no idea; actually, I was baffled. I shook my head, my face growing hotter. I had to try to stay calm, if I let my emotions run loose, then there would be no telling of what I might do. I sighed to myself.

It was a bit difficult when your entire "thing" had been engulfed in a warm place where stimulation was bound to pop up. All I could do was hope that Near refrained from motion and kept still.

'Don't move, don't move,' I chanted to myself, trying to keep still. I couldn't allow myself to make any sudden movements, in fear that Near would get hurt, or that I would become...passionate.

"Mello."

I peered over at Near, who was staring at me diligently with a weary look in his eyes. I shut my eyes and tried to will the dirty thoughts away.

"What?" I answered. I didn't want him to talk. Just the vibrations from his voice alone rocketed jolts of excited electricity heading straight down to my private parts.

Oh please, if I could just get out of this intact...

"More."

My eyes widened. What? What in the world did he mean by that? Sometimes he could be so vague that it nearly killed me. Why did he have to be so cryptic all the time? Couldn't he at least express his ideas in a normal multi-toned sentence?

The contact from his skin was starting to send shivers down my spine. I hadn't really noticed it before, but my thighs felt as if they were on fire and I feared that with each growing second the fire would ultimately hit right between my legs.

What a predicament.

As weird as it sounded, I felt like moving. I was starting to grow fidgety; I simply needed friction. Being so close to Near, with our bodies practically sandwiched together, made my nerves want to explode. There are tons of different analogies I could use to compare with my little situation, but I suppose they would be a bit too vulgar to voice aloud. Perhaps on the next English assignment I could use them.

I stared down at Near, watching the rings of water flap against the lower part of his stomach. I noticed that his "thing" was sticking up too.

I continued to silently stare at him, my body growing hotter and hotter. Could I take it any longer? What would happen if I just happened to push into Near? There was a high possibility of response, but how would he take it? How would I respond to it?

Giving in to temptation, I pushed myself into him. The response nearly made me erupt.

I pushed in again and again, sliding out to gain better leverage. Near moaned and groaned, his voice reaching both high and low points. I supposed that it was a good thing that he physically voiced his reactions because they only helped to fuel my stimulation. It felt good, better than good. It felt, well, it was a bit difficult to describe the feeling. Think of it as a volcano waiting to erupt with vigor. That's how I felt at the moment.

"Ah, ah, ah," Near whimpered, his fingers wrapping themselves around the sides of my leg. I had no idea what I was doing, but it sure felt good. I had never experienced such a feeling before, excluding the time with Near in my bedroom. It's only natural for a person to want to feel these feelings continuously if it indeed felt pleasurable. Well, I certainly felt pleasurable, even heavenly, but I had always been an impulsive person. That impulsiveness made it even more riveting.

I felt hot inside him, with each push and withdrawal, it felt as if I had sparked a new fire within me. I was sweating, despite the water lapping about my body, and my breath was heavy and labored. Overall, it was exhausting, but the pleasure clouded my brain signals and pushed the weariness away.

The more I pushed, the more he moaned. I was starting to really feel it now, the need to burst steadily growing and growing. In a need to touch something, my hand fumbled it's way down his stomach and gripped his stimulated arousal.

"Hah..." Near squeaked, widening his legs in response. As I continued to push, I pumped at his "thing". If _**I**_ felt good down there, then he should too. My hand went up and down, settling into a steady pace as Near started to move back and forth with my movements.

I leaned into him, my lips brushing along his shoulder and planting themselves on the skin of his neck. I licked him, causing his head to tilt to the side. It was amazing to find out that I could do all of these things at once, like multi-tasking. Pushing, pumping, licking, moaning...that was a lot for a little boy to do. But then, there was the fact that I wasn't an ordinary little boy. I was an impulsive, second hand genius. It was only natural that I could figure out a way to balance everything at once.

It was even more amazing at how I new how to do all these things. Well, most of it was based on common sense and impulse. I had common sense, although it was often shrouded over with a temper, and I definitely had impulse, so I guess it was just natural for me to respond in those ways. If my arousal grew hotter, then all I had to do was move my hips. If I begged for touch, I could fondle Near. It was all very calculative, like a mathematical equation, although Math wasn't my favorite subject.

I moaned, that intense feeling down under starting to reach it's limits. It felt as if I were about to explode, literally.

Just then, Near pulled away from me and stood up, water drizzling down his body like light rain. He turned around and faced me, actually, it was more like his "thing" was facing me now, hard and erect. I blushed and averted my eyes elsewhere, the stiffness between my legs growing unbearable as each second ticked by.

Why did we have to stop now after I was starting to enjoy myself?!

"I want to see you," he said quietly, staring down at me innocently. See me? Wasn't he seeing me now?

I watched him as he lowered himself, positioning the lower half of his body into perfect placement atop my lap. He winced once or twice, but I could tell that the pain had been quickly pushed aside to allow the pleasure to sink through. His cheeks lit up with color and his mouth parted open.

All the while, I stared at his pale chest. I watched how it went up and down as it moved to the rhythm of his breathing. And then, my eyes traveled downwards. Another throb of pleasure rang throughout my body. Just staring at him all exposed and flushed made me want to lose my sanity.

"Kiss me."

I stared up at him, brushing a few blond strands of hair from out of my face. I gazed at his lips, debating on whether or not I should obey his command.

For a few seconds, I simply sat there, arousal hard and body fidgeting.

"Kiss me," he commanded once again, his eyes starting to water. "Kiss me or I'll tell..."

"Tell who?" I immediately asked, my guard starting to shoot up. Was he threatening me now?

"Not important," he responded. "I want you to kiss me though, on the lips. You've never done it before."

My mouth opened like a fish, my words lost in the non-existent wind. Have I really never kissed him before? I tried to think back on all the past moments that I had spent with him, but I couldn't recall if I had kissed him or not. A thought suddenly hit me.

"Hey, I've kissed you before!" I protested. I wrapped my arms around his waist. "And I've done it on the lips too! Remember, we were on your bed and then we heard Roger coming so we hid under the bed and--!"

Near silenced my inconsistent rambling by placing his lips to mine. I sighed into his mouth and gave in to the increasing pleasure he was giving me. As the kiss deepened, so did our movements. They were very simple too: I pushed in and he rocked himself up and down.

I felt his tiny fingers gripping onto my back, massaging my skin blindly as his moans filled the echoing bathroom. I could feel the temperature rising, my "thing" growing harder while his arousal rubbed against the lower part of my stomach.

"Mmmm, a-ah...ahh..." Near whimpered, crashing his chest to mine as his arms wrapped around my neck. We kissed each other feverishly, our tongues dancing wildly in a sort of heated dance.

"Faster," he ordered, his voice coming out raspy and drained. I was too self-induced on pleasure to think about his commands, so I did what my body told me to do.

I went faster.

In and out, in and out. That was the basic rhythm as I slid into him. I could feel the last of my resolve beginning to crumble as Near's "thing" slid up and down against my stomach. The water splashed wildly around us and in a matter of seconds, I had erupted.

Where the white goo would go, I had no idea. Near opened his eyes wide at feeling something squirt inside of him.

He hadn't exploded yet.

I continued to push against him in a desperate attempt to empty him.

"Ah, ah ah, hahh...M-...ello...it's...I'm gonna'..ahh, ahhh..."

With one last push, he erupted all over my stomach. He then collapsed against me, his face burying into my neck. I could hear the labored sound of his breath gushing in and out of his mouth, his heart thumping madly against mine.

I gently pushed him away, causing him to look directly at me. I stared down at my stomach, white goo coating it like a liquid band-aid.

"Ew," I said, sticking my tongue out. Near huffed.

"Hey, you got some of that white stuff in my butt," he pointed out, sending me a weak glare. "How am I gonna' get it out?"

"I could always lick it out or--."

"No," Near blushed, putting a finger to my lips. "You'd get your spit in there, gross."

"Hey, do you think Matt would know how to do this stuff?" I asked out of nowhere, tilting my head in thought.

"What stuff?" Near asked suspiciously, cocking an eyebrow.

"I mean, what we just did," I explained.

Near's eyes hardened, his eyes squinting together with the first signs of anger.

"Why would you wanna' know?" he asked heatedly, crossing his bare arms over his chest. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know really," I answered, averting my eyes to the ceiling. "I was just wondering if he'd know how to do this stuff, like if we're the only ones who do it or something like that."

"Would you want to do it with him?"

"Sure, I mean, I don't see why not. He's pretty--."

Near suddenly eased himself up and out of the water, his hair falling over his face like a curtain. A rush of cold air hit my chest due to Near's absence of body heat. I shivered. On instinct, I scooted further away from him until my back plopped against the back of the tub.

Silence encased us, the only sound that of our fast breathing. I didn't know what to expect from Near. He could be angry, hurt, bewildered...it was kind of hard to tell since his face was hidden from view.

I watched the water drip off his body as it splashed back inside the tub. For a moment he just stood there, staring off into space as if he were totally lost. Then, he stepped out of the tub all together.

I saw his shoulders shake as the cold air hit his skin. The water was dripping off of him now, splashing silently onto the floor. I didn't know what to do. Was I supposed to say something? I was afraid to do anything, less I make him feel any worse than he felt at the moment.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my fingers shaking underneath the water.

As if in slow motion, he turned around, greeting me with a hefty glare.

"I'm going to bed," he replied icily. And with that, he stocked out of the bathroom and plundered down the hallway. I stared at his forgotten towel, still hanging off it's perch on the toilet. I sure hoped no one would catch him running naked down that hallway.

I sighed and leaned back, resting my head against the tiled wall. What had I done wrong? Was it because I had mentioned about doing naughty stuff with Matt? It wasn't as if I were actually going to do it with Matt, he was my best friend and all, but it would be too awkward to do something like that with him. I was just wondering if he would know how, that's all. Well, maybe I would like to do it with Matt, but only to test it out!

I sighed and slapped myself. I really had done something wrong.

I splashed about in the water, watching as it's crystalline waves rippled across the surface. I felt dirty somehow; it was probably the water. I rubbed the palm of my hand over my stomach, wiping the white goo off. I grimaced and stood up, wincing as the cold air pounded against my skin. I grabbed my towel, also draped over the toilet and wrapped it around myself.

I wondered if Matt was still sleeping.

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After I had gotten out of the bathroom, I had ventured over to Matt's room. Of course, he was sleeping, a Playstation 2 controller resting atop his stomach. I hadn't even bothered to change into a decent pair of pajamas, I just didn't want to go back to my room. Near could be there.

"Matt," I whispered, shuffling my way through all the wires and game discs littered about the floor. I eased my way onto his bed and scooted him over, for he was smack dab in the center of the mattress.

"Mmmm, one life left," Matt mumbled in his sleep. His gloves were off (baffled as I was), and his goggles were no where to be found. I stuck my tongue out at him and sauntered into the blankets. I wriggled my toes, enjoying the way the blankets rubbed against my skin and sighed.

I wonder if Near was sleeping now. He was probably already in his room, no doubt about that, but I don't think he would be able to sleep after _**that**_ had happened.

And with that final thought, I kicked Matt (for he had kicked me in the shins) and drifted off to sleep.

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"Matt, have you seen-- MELLO!!"

I shot straight up, the sudden voice nearly scaring me half to death. I looked about the room, my eyes still groggy from sleep, until I landed them upon a figure standing against the light in the doorway. My eyes nearly shot out of their sockets.

"Roger!" I exclaimed shakily.

He looked as if he were about to die right there. The vein on the side of his forehead was pumping to the extreme and his eyes were strained and bloodshot. I looked down at myself.

Crap. I only had a towel on.

At that moment, Matt woke up as well, letting a big yawn take hold of his lips. He stretched out his arms and sat up, patting me on the back. He stared at me and blinked, then stared at Roger and blinked.

"Hi Near," he said lazily. I stared at Matt in confusion, and looked back at Roger. Near? Was he here?

Another figure was standing besides Roger, their brilliant white hair flaming against the morning sun. Oh crap, then he was here.

He was staring at me, a solemn expression on his face. His black orbs were void and hollow, so distant that it made me want to duck and hide under the covers. I looked back at Matt and frowned.

"What are you doing here, Mello?" he asked me, a slur of sleep still evident in his voice.

"Indeed, Mello, what are you doing here?"

I turned towards Roger again, sweat starting to drip down the side of my head. I had an explanation, but I didn't think he would buy it.

"I didn't wanna' sleep in my room, so I came over here and...slept," I explained, linking my fingers together over my lap.

Yup. He didn't buy it. Roger's teeth were grinding against themselves, his face blue and purple. Was he holding his breath? I shivered, wrapping the yellow towel tightly around myself. I didn't know what to do and I didn't know what to say, all I could do was just sit down and wait for my punishment.

"Matt, go back to bed please. As for you," Roger said in a rough voice, glaring his eyes at me. "Mello, get up this instant and change. After that, I want you to come directly to my office, you understand?" I gulped and nodded meekly, a hefty blush consuming my face.

Not wanting to be humiliated any further, I quickly scrambled off the bed and shot out the room, all the while gripping onto my towel for dear life.

If Near was staring at me, I could feel it, because as I scampered down the main hallway, my back felt like it had a million needles sticking into it.

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I stared at myself through the mirror, the palms of my hands coming up to smack themselves against my cheeks. I reddened and sighed.

I had done what Roger had told me to do, I changed, but I didn't feel like going down to his office. What if Near was there also? I don't think I'd be able to face him after he had seen me so unceremoniously in Matt's bed.

I slipped on my boots and stared at myself once more in the mirror. I knew that Near was probably mad. Judging by his expression, I knew that there would be hell to pay, in one form on another.

The one thing that I hated about Near was his ability to change from all cute and weak, to the void and hollow person that I truly, truly despised. When he transitioned into that most hated state, I did my best to ignore him; if possible.

He was so hard to predict like that. It would look as if he were holding a grudge against you, his form of punishment that of the "cold shoulder". I just hoped Near could see beyond my explanation for sleeping in Matt's bed.

I walked over towards my dresser drawer, my fingers fumbling along it's messy surface for something in particular. My eyes alighted in joy once I found what I was looking for.

I picked the cross up by it's string, twirling the necklace about as the sun reflected off of it like a shining star. I had forgotten who had given it to me, but I remembered that I had gotten it as a Christmas present long ago. I wasn't exactly enthralled to find a piece of string with the letter "t" hanging off of it after I was so mesmerized at seeing all the amazing gifts that everyone else received that day. I fingered the cross, rubbing my thumb up and down. I guess it was just habit that I liked to carry it around with me for good luck's sake. I slipped the necklace over my head and let it fall against my chest, where it rested with a dull thump. I needed all the luck I could get if I was to face Roger and Near at the same time.

With that, I looked about my room once more, headed out the door, and steadily shot down the hallway.

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I stared up at the narrow mahogany doors, fear starting to creep up my spine. I was starting to tremble, my fingers shaking as they wrapped themselves around the cross necklace hanging around my neck.

'It can't be that bad,' I thought to myself, desperately trying to boost my confidence. I didn't know what was in store for me. Would I be kicked out? Would I be banned from seeing Matt? Or worse...what if Roger confiscated all my chocolate!

I nearly keeled over at the thought, my insides turning to mush. If Roger ever decided upon destroying my chocolate...I wouldn't know what to do. Chocolate was like the syrup on my pancakes. Who could live without putting syrup on their pancakes?!

With one shaky breath, I dropped the cross necklace and raised my hand to the door. I clenched my fingers together, forming a fist, and let it hover there for a few seconds, before I knocked three times.

"Come in," Roger's voice said through the doors. I gulped and placed my hand around the brass door knob and turned it. I pushed open the heavy doors, sun light pouring in from the windows across the room. I winced a couple of times before my eyes adjusted to the bright light.

As I looked about the room, I found that it was empty of any occupants, except for Roger of course, who was sitting at his desk against one of the far walls.

I shut the door behind me, letting it close with a soft click and made my way across the room.

"Mello."

I froze. That voice...I could recognize that voice anywhere. The adrenaline started pulsing through my veins, my stomach doing little flips of joy. I turned around slowly and my eyes popped open.

"L!!" I shouted. There he was, the insomniac detective, sitting quietly in one of the corners of the room. He had a plate of cake on his lap, a metal fork dangling from his wiry fingers as he placed it into his mouth and began to chew. For a moment, happiness burst forth from me, astonishment wracking my bones. And then, I looked to the side of him, and my happiness popped like a round balloon.

Near was sitting next to him, a red toy airplane in his left hand. He had one knee to his chest, his other hand twirling a lock of silver hair.

I turned my head away from him, refocusing my attention back on L, who was looking at me suspiciously while his black eyes occasionally glanced down at Near. Hopefully he didn't find out about our...situation.

Crap.

Scratch that. If L did suddenly find out about me and Near's little...escapades...I just hope that he wouldn't tell Roger. Heck, L was the best detective on the planet, of course he'd be able to figure out that there was some kind of conflict between Near and I. I sighed and hung my head, my feet gliding over to where L sat.

"Hi L," I greeted, letting a smile consume my lips. I stared down at the raven haired boy whose sunken eyes merely looked at me in solid recognition.

"Hello, Mello," he greeted back, his voice smooth and low. "Is there something wrong?"

I froze, staring down at him with eyes wide and mouth agape. I quickly shook the expression off and averted my eyes to the wall.

"Um, no," I answered nervously, my fingers coming up to play at the cross necklace hanging against my chest. "It's just that I haven't seen you in a while..."

I stared down at the insomniac teenager once again, hoping that my explanation had convinced him enough to leave me alone. Of course, he was just staring at me, his black orbs nearly piercing into my flesh. I watched as his nimble fingers took hold of the fork once again, sticking it into the cake and drawing it into his mouth like he had previously done. He chewed silently, still staring at me while his toes wriggled about the edge of the chair.

"Mello," Roger's voice boomed from the background. I straightened myself and turned around, facing the old man with a nervous face.

"Yes?" I asked, my voice shaking. I didn't want Roger to announce my personal affairs in front of L. That would be humiliating.

"I still need a thorough explanation," he continued, his fingers tapping against his wooden desk. "Why were you in Matt's room this morning?"

I was trembling now, afraid to turn around and find L and Near both staring at me with indifferent faces. I just wanted to vanish, to shrivel into a mound of dust and disappear from off the planet. Unfortunately, Roger wasn't going to let me do that if he could help it.

"Answer me Mello--"

"Roger, would it be alright if you allowed me to talk to Mello first?"

I turned my head around and stared at L, who had somehow saved me from the claws of Roger. I'd really have to thank him later. Maybe I could share my stash of chocolate with him?

Roger glared at me, then averted his eyes back to L, in which he gave a curt nod.

"Of course," he said slowly and started shuffling papers around his desk.

"Let us go then."

I turned myself around and watched as L got up out his chair, setting the plate of devoured cake upon the ground. He looked at me and smiled, while extending his hand. I walked closer to him, although hesitantly, but took his offered hand nonetheless.

"Near," L said softly, offering his other hand to the silver haired boy. Near got up on command, bright red airplane grasped tightly within his fingers. He then stood next to L, like I had done, and silently took his offered hand.

I tried to peer around L, trying to get a glimpse of Near's expression. I had to know what he was thinking, although...that was going to be quite hard to guess.

After a few moments of struggle, Near finally turned to me and our eyes met. I blushed and looked down at the ground. I looked back up and found that he had his eyes elsewhere, wandering about Roger's office.

"We will be back Roger," L said, gripping our hands tightly. We strolled over and out the door, our feet padding against the tiled floor of the main hallway.

I looked up at L after a few moments worth of silence. He caught my stare and smiled at me.

"What's wrong Mello?" he asked calmly. I shivered. L looked creepy sometimes. I mean, his hair was really messy and his posture was just horrible...and those eyes of his. His eyes really freaked me out sometimes. Let's just say you wouldn't want L staring at you while you're trapped within a dark room in a haunted mansion.

"Nothing," I said quietly, shooting a glimpse at Near. He didn't even notice it, for he was staring up at L. Why was he staring at him? I looked back up at L and then at Near.

They were always close, those too. It didn't really bother me much, but now...I felt restless or something. Watching Near stare up at L like that...what was so interesting about L anyway?

Wait, stupid question.

I guess Near was L's favorite. He spent most of his visits with Near anyway. Sure, L gave me a bar of chocolate from time to time, but I wasn't anywhere near Near's status. I suppose I shouldn't complain about it or anything, after all, we, as in Near and I, were competing against each other for L's praise. It's only natural for someone to favor another.

I just didn't get why it made me so fidgety.

"Where are we going, L?" I asked. L continued down the hallway, his eyes set out in front of him.

"To my room," he said. "We can talk there without Roger having to hear us. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He tilted his head down and looked at me, his charcoal eyes wide and speculative. I gulped and nodded my head.

"You would like that too, right Near?" he asked, turning towards him. Near looked away and nodded also.

As we continued down the hallway, a thought suddenly hit me. I widened my eyes. Where was L's room anyway? I mean, he visited often enough to spend the night down here at the Wammy House, but I had never seen him actually sleep. As in: going to his room and shifting through the blankets--sleep.

Did L even have a room? Was it deep underground in some Pagan cave hidden in the basement of the Wammy House? Did Roger make him sleep in a dungeon? Or did he just sleep on a chair somewhere, his knees pressed to his chest while cake crumbs dribbled off his chin?

I smiled to myself. Finally, I would know.

We merged our way down hallways and turned at sharp corners and after about 15 minutes, L halted, bringing Near and I to a stop. My eyes met with a wall.

"Why did we stop here?" I asked, confusion etching into my brow. Seriously, why in the world would we stop in front of a blank wall? Was there some sort of significance to it? Did he want us to examine the wallpaper?

I was about to say something when L extended his arm and knocked six times on the surface of the wall.

"Identification," a voice boomed from out of no where, nearly scaring me half to death. I looked up at L as if he were an alien. Who the heck said that?

"Lawli--" L trailed off, staring down at Near, then at me.

"--pop," he finished. Suddenly, the wall split open. I mean, like literally...it split open. I'm not a very religious person, although some of the teachers say I should be, but remember that guy who split that sea apart? Well, that was how it was going with the wall.

I tried to peer around L to find how Near was taking this. I was only met with a dull glare as he twiddled with a lock of his hair. I scrunched my nose and resumed forward, staring down a long, dark hallway. I would have never known that the Wammy House had secret passageways.

L tugged on our hands, gesturing for us to start moving. I gripped L's hand more tightly as the wall shut behind us and the dark slowly encased our very beings.

"Good morning L."

"Ah!"

I quickly clamped a hand over my mouth, my cheeks flaming red at my sudden outburst. Way to embarrass yourself Mello.

I looked ahead of me to find the figure of an old man standing a couple of feet away from us with a hat on, his hands behind his back as he stood with a dignified posture.

"God dam--!" I was cut off by L, who sharply tugged at my hand and shook his head at me. I gulped and blushed, biting my tongue.

"Near," L started. "Mello." He looked down at me, offering a light smile. "This is Watari."

Watari bowed, a shriveled smile taking hold of his lips. He then walked towards us, giving Near and I each a nod.

"Mr. River, Mr. Keehl," he confirmed, nodding his head. My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

"Hey, hey, hey!!" I yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him. "How the heck did you know my last name?!"

L slapped my hand away, leaving me to glare up at him while caressing the red patch of skin on my hand.

"It's okay, he knows my real name too," L confirmed, gripping our hands again as we followed after Watari (who had apparently taken flight down the dark hallway).

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"How did _**you**_ know our names?" I asked L. After a few seconds worth of thought, I decided that the question was entirely stupid. L was a genius, how could he not know our names? Besides, he would _**have**_ to know our names if he was to determine who'd be his successor in the near future.

We continued walking down the dark corridor, L's bare feet padding against the tiled floor. The only thing that I could see was Near's bright white hair. It still puzzled me to know that it was his actual hair color. I've certainly never heard of any babies popping out with a head full of white hair. Where was the logic in that? White hair?

"Hmph," I mumbled to myself. I watched Near turn his head a little, his eyes flashing a glare in the dark. I turned away and decided to stare at Watari's back instead.

In a matter of minutes, we stepped out from the dark confines of the hallway, artificial light bathing us like a blanket of dull fire.

I stared about the room, my eyes probing the area in inspection. I had never once come across this room, even though I pretty much explored every crack and crevice in the Wammy house. The walls were a dark shade of grey, electrical wires draping around them like lavish curtains. The ceiling was fairly high, so high that when I looked up, I started to shake a little. I wasn't too keen on large heights.

I flicked my eyes across the room, where a wall of computers issued forth with the signature trademark "L" typed upon all the screens. Did L sleep in here? I searched for any signs of a bed, but couldn't find anything worth of comfort except for a black computer chair.

Surely L would have another room for him to sleep in, wouldn't he?

"Is this where you sleep, L?" I asked, pulling my hand away from his. He looked down at me and nodded. He also let go of Near's hand, stuffing his own into the pockets of his jeans. He then walked over towards the center of the room, back arched while he gently nibbled on the tip of his thumb. He turned around, eyes staring at us like a deer caught in headlights.

"What do you think?" he asked casually, his chin lifting up as he stared about the room.

I turned my head to look at Near, expecting him to say something, but he just stared straight ahead at L, one arm gripping the red airplane to his chest while the other one hung limply at his side.

"Watari, can you leave us please?" L stated, still nibbling on his thumb. "I'll call you if I'm in need of your assistance."

"Of course," Watari said, giving a curt bow. He then turned around and stepped into the dark hallway, his shoes clacking against the tiled floors.

After staring down the long corridor, I turned back around to find L sitting in his signature position on the computer chair.

"Mello, what were you doing in Matt's bed this morning?"

I stared at L in disbelief, my lips slightly parted. Why would he ask me such a thing? I thought I was off the hook! I blushed, my eyes averting to the ground. I heard Near plop to the ground, obviously to start playing with his toy airplane.

"I wasn't doing anything," I muttered quietly, my fingers coming up to fiddle with the cross on my necklace.

There was a pause before L spoke up again.

"I know you didn't do anything other than sleep, but why didn't you sleep in your own room?"

I was tugging at my necklace now, the vinyl string rubbing against the back of my neck. I didn't want to answer L, but I knew there was no getting around it.

"I didn't want to sleep in my room, that's all," I answered simply, shrugging my shoulders. I stared up at L through my bangs, trying to phase an expression of a non-chalant air.

"Stop acting dumb Mello, there's no point."

I snapped my head towards Near, my eyes glaring daggers at him. He just sat there, finger twiddling around a lock of silver hair as his other hand propelled the toy airplane through the air.

I wasn't acting dumb, I was far from that and he knew it. We were the two most clever-bound people in the entire Wammy House, he knew perfectly well that I never "acted" dumb. What was he trying to pull anyway? It was as if he we urging for me to retell everything that had happened last night right to L's face. Would he seriously jeopardize his reputation like that, I certainly wouldn't.

Near glanced up at me, eyes slanted and face emotionless. Just looking at his face made me seethe. I hated when he looked like that, I absolutely detested it. Didn't he know that his little "act" drove me insane? I liked it better when he was weak, at least then he would have a display of emotions that were other than dull and boring.

I seriously felt like slapping him right now.

"You're the one to talk Near!" I spat, the anger rising in me inch by agonizing inch. "You're the one who's always acting like a stupid person! You lie with that stupid face of yours, always so cold and fuc--!"

"Mello."

I took in a wad of fresh air, turning my head to face L. What did he want now? Did he not see that I was busy?

"Watch your language Mello, I will not tolerate it."

I clenched my fists and nodded.

"Obviously, there seems to be some kind of dispute going on between you too," L stated, his eyes drifting their gaze along the ceiling."It's not unusual, but this time the tension seems a bit more...problematic."

"Near," L continued. "How about you try to explain?" Near continued to play with his toy airplane, going about like he hadn't just been asked a question. I smiled to myself.

I knew Near wouldn't be able to disobey L for long, he'd have to tell him something sooner or later. The best thing about it was that I knew Near wouldn't tell the truth. He wanted to be praised by L just as much as I did, there was no way he'd tell him anything so hazardous.

"Mello slept with Matt right after putting his thing in my--."

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, scared at my own high tone of voice. I couldn't believe it! Near was twisting everything to his benefit. He knew it was an accident, he contributed too, he knew...

"Near!!" I screamed, diving at the silver haired boy. The toy airplane was sent crashing to the ground, chips of red metal sweeping across the floor like glass shards. The anger was rolling out of me like waves, my body acting of it's own accord. It was as if I were a mere puppet dangling in the hands of utter outrage.

I yanked and pulled at Near's hair, dragging my fingernails across his face as if it were a blank chalkboard. He screamed, tangling his fingers in the loose strands of my hair as a defensive measure.

I heard L scramble out of his chair, but I didn't care. I didn't even bother to notice the way his bare feet dashed across the room, his hands pulling us apart like a pair of magnets.

Near was breathing hard, glistening tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. His hair was messy and all askew, his clothes hanging limply off his body.

On the other hand, I was still livid as ever. I was breathing heavily as well, taking in deep breathes of air in means to try to calm myself. I felt like crying, but my pride wouldn't let me.

"Mello."

I looked up at L, who was silently peering down at me. I gulped and stared up at him.

"Please leave Mello," he commanded.

"But--!"

"Leave, Mello."

"What are you gonna' do with Near then?! He's the one who--!"

"Leave."

The tears were threatening to pour down but I sucked them in. Mello never cried.

Instead, I sent both of them hefty glares and took off down the dark hallway, the wall splitting apart to let me out.

I sprinted across narrow hallways and turned around tight corners, not bothering to remember the directions we had taken earlier. I didn't even know this part of the Wammy House that well.

Seven good minutes had passed until I halted right outside a very familiar door. I didn't even bother knocking, I just turned the knob and rushed right in, slamming the door behind me.

Matt was sitting in front of his TV, an Xbox controller in his hands. The lights were off, the darkness encasing him, save for the light emanating off the TV screen. It was so weird how he could make it look like night when it was still very well into the morning.

I trudged over to his bed, throwing myself upon his mattress like a pile of dirty laundry. Silence permeated through the air like thick fog, flashes of light shooting across the ceiling like a mob of sniper shooters. I could tell that Matt didn't feel like talking, he always went deathly quiet when it came to video games.

"Matt," I said. I wasn't going to coddle him with silence. Right now, I needed someone to talk to.

"Matt," I said again. He didn't bother to answer, his eyes locked on the TV screen while his thumbs rampaged along the controller buttons.

"Matt!" I called with more force. I heard him sigh, putting the game on pause while he turned to face me.

"What'ya want?" he asked, irritated.

"Get me some chocolate."

Matt stared at me for a moment, his eyes squinting from behind his goggles. I couldn't tell what his expression was.

"Get your own darn chocolate," he said, then turned around and resumed playing his video game. I pursed my lips, crawling over towards the edge of the bed where Matt was sitting.

"But you always get it for me!" I said, smacking him on the head. "It's your job."

"No it isn't," he countered, eyes still locked on the TV screen. "Pshh, stupid Juggernaut."

My fingers started to twitch. I really needed to get some chocolate. I was so off the edge, all due to that little spat I had back there with Near and L, that I couldn't function properly. Chocolate was my remedy, my solace. Actually, it was more like an addiction. Like a smoker to his cigarette.

If Matt wasn't going to get it for me, then I guess I would have to get it for myself. It's just that I was too lazy to get up and get it.

"What were you doing with Near last night?"

I nearly fell off the bed. I stared down at him, all sorts of thoughts rambling about in my head. Did he hear us last night? Was he really sleeping?

I gulped.

"Why?" I asked hesitantly.

Matt hit the pause button on the controller, placing it upon the ground. He then turned around and faced me.

"I heard things Mello," he started, lifting up his goggles to place them on his forehead.

I was starting to sweat now, my eyes wandering aimlessly about the room in retreat from Matt's penetrating stare.

"I heard Near's voice too," he added, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. "Were you guys in the bathroom or something?"

I stared him straight in the eye for a few seconds. What was he getting at? I knew that he must have heard something when we were in the bathroom, the question is, what?

"You were probably dreaming..." I replied. "...or something. Maybe you left your game on, you coulda' heard the noises from your game."

"Mello! You know that I don't own any Sexy-Games...yet," Matt urged, slapping the palms of his hands on the mattress. "You're lying! Are you and Near...best friends or something, 'cause I thought I was your...best friend...or if not...I mean..."

"What do you mean by best friend?" I asked, relief starting to dwell away. Matt looked at me dejectedly.

"So then you are," he stated. "Best friends with Near I mean."

I was hardly even close to that with Near. I didn't really know where we stood on the line of friendship. Sometimes I hated Near with a passion. The things he did just made me tick. I mean, he had two different masks to display. One of a cold, fathomless exterior and one that expressed other emotions other than a bottomless pit. So to answer Matt's question: I simply didn't know.

"I don't know," I mumbled, jabbing my index finger into the bedspread. "Why? Are you jealous?" I started to grin, raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

I saw Matt's face turn red, but he quickly turned around to conceal it.

"Shut up," I heard him mumble and he resumed his game. The atmosphere had changed in the room, it was too...stifling. I smacked Matt on the head again (in which he punched me in the stomach) as I headed towards the door.

Matt paused his game, staring after me like a child to his mother.

I hated to leave him like that, but I couldn't stay any longer; it would be too awkward.

"Bye," I said offhandedly and walked out the door. I didn't even bother to notice Matt looking after me with a dejected look on his face.

**Hah, not much of a cliffhanger, huh? I feel sorry for Matt though -cries- Oh well, hope you enjoyed the chapter and I sincerely apologize for not updating sooner. **

**REVIEW. now.**

**please. :D**


	6. Gurgle

**Please read and review, but most importantly, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote or any of it's fantastic characters.**

**Chapter 6: Gurgle**

Have I ever told you that I absolutely adored chocolate?

Chocolate is like the sweet remedy that cures all of my ailments in one foul swoop. I can't exactly remember my first introduction to chocolate, all that I can recall is stumbling upon a deserted chocolate bar abandoned on the floor when I was around four-years-old, but other than that, I can't really give a detailed explanation.

There's really no questioning my motifs as I sit here, hunched up against the wall, munching on a half devoured bar of chocolate. I sighed to myself, sliding my tongue against the chocolatey sweet as it began to melt inside my mouth. As of the moment, solace and tranquility were my two very best friends, and if any other disturbance happened to round the corner and piss me off, there would be no telling what I would do.

My mind was fluttering madly like a horde of provoked bees. My fingers were constantly jittering and once in a while, I could feel the faint tremble of my eye twitching.

Why was Near such a pain to be with? And to top that all off like the painfully sweet cherry that it was, Matt was going all soft on me as well. I pressed my chin into the palm of my open hand, tapping the tips of my fingers alongside my cheek.

Weren't girls supposed to be the ones burdened by drama? I shook my head in disdain, spitting out a tiny piece of foil that I had accidentally bitten into. Boy weren't supposed to care about life's problems until after they reached puberty, or so I thought. Usually, boys wouldn't trifle over what people thought of them or if they would hurt someone else's feelings by doing something harmful (like I had done with Matt, but did I really do anything wrong?).

Sure, boys had their own little problems, like I had mine, but they usually dealt with them in a more manlier fashion. I sneered to myself, smacking my hand to the ground. Why was I stuck with all the mushy girl problems?!

There was also L to think about too. What did he have to do with me and Near? Why was he here anyway? Usually, Roger would warn us about L's visits ahead of time, so why did he fail to inform us?

I squinted my eyes in thought and took another hefty bite out of my chocolate bar. I doubt that L would come all the way over to the Wammy House just to drop in and greet us. L always had motives behind his actions, despite how questionable those motives were. The question was: what were they?

I widened my eyes in realization as a sudden thought passed through my mind like a flash of lightning. What were they doing now, Near and L? I bit my lip, rubbing my teeth over the tender flesh until I could taste the metallic sweetness of blood. The idea was preposterous in itself, but it was probable.

Was L that type of person? It was sort of disgusting for me to be thinking of L doing things "unmentionable" to Near, but I guess I shouldn't complain because those "things" are not all that different from what I had done to Near. I patted my stomach, acidic juices churning and churning until I began to feel the first stage of nausea. Would Near comply to L's wishes?

I took another bite out of my chocolate bar, my eye starting to twitch like mad. I chewed on the bar of chocolate as if it were a piece of dried jerkey, gritting my teeth in arising anger. The thought of L's hands even touching Near's body was enough to send me into a state of panic and rage. For some sick reason, I couldn't stand the thought of Near doing any sort of "naughty" things with someone other than myself. The idea was so repulsive in itself that I nearly gagged.

Near didn't deserve anyone else but me and me alone. I know, I sounded like a possessive twit, but it was entirely true and I have many reasons to prove my justification.

First of all, Near was the one who kept on advancing towards me. Sure, I had watched him many a time put on make-up and such, but I didn't do anything about it. I was merely watching him out of pure curiosity. Second of all, he was turning me into something that I thoroughly disliked. I didn't want to have all these thoughts and dilemmas. I didn't want them at all; it was as if he was purposefully pushing problems on me.

And finally, Near had stolen my precious boyhood away from me (excluding the fact that I had taken his, but in a sexual way). From my point of view, childhood consisted of frolic, laughter, wild adventures, and pure and utter fun. Near had stolen every single drop of that childhood from me and that was enough to condemn him to an eternity in purgatory.

I sneered once again and popped the last bit of chocolate into my mouth, my teeth gnashing into it's inner sweetness. It was all Near's fault, every single ounce of it. He was even starting to cause problems between me and Matt! Matt and I had never had problems until Near decided to meddle with my life. Sure, I didn't have an inkling to what those problems were, but I had a dreaded feeling at the very pit of my stomach. Something was up with Matt and Near was behind all of it.

"Stupid Near," I hissed, crunching up the chocolate wrapper into a wad of paper and foil. I threw the piece of trash to the side and stomped my feet to the ground. "Stupid L."

Why did he kick me out anyway, L? Was it really necessary for him to do that? He could have just as easily set both Near and me aside and worked out the problem with us. It was all Near's fault anyways, that prick. Him and his big mouth.

I sighed once again and leaned back into the wall, my back rubbing against it's smooth surface. I huddled into myself, the tips of my hair fanning out before my chest as I let out a tiny sneeze. Silence encased my very being, wrapping me in a blanket of morbid loneliness. Just as I was about to release myself and relax in the tranquility, a faint patter of footsteps jerked me into a state of alertness.

I immediately sat up, my eyes beading up and down the corridor that I happened to place myself in. The footsteps were getting closer and closer, for they happened to be getting louder as each second ticked by.

I sucked in my breath and scooted along the wall until I came upon a spacious crevice embedded alongside it. I eased my way into the crevice, allowing the shady gloom to overcome me as it temporarily hid me from view. I planted my knees to the ground and knelt forward, my face protruding just enough to see the unexpected visitor without my being caught and detained.

The seconds seemed to tick by as I found myself holding my breath, the footsteps a constant reminder of intrusion. I leaned in more, smacking the palms of my hand to the dusty ground.

"…should talk to him."

I stiffened as L's voice reached my ears. I couldn't exactly pick up the sentence that he had just said, for it was only a fragment, so I leaned in a bit more, making sure that the wall's shadow concealed my face and body well enough without anyone noticing.

A few moments of silence passed, strangling the vicinity with anxiety and anticipation. My finger nails were grinding against the tiled floors, specks of dirt encrusting themselves into the underside of my nails. I was shaking for some unknown reason, my knees and shoulders trembling in muted fear as I struggled to support myself.

I widened my eyes as I saw them there, Near and L holding hands as they slowly trotted down through the corridor. I couldn't peel my eyes off of them, not even after they had passed me and left me to stare at their retreating backsides.

I pressed my fingers into the floor, gritting my teeth in suppressed rage. My stomach felt a bit odd.

I sat back on the heels of my feet and rubbed my stomach in a leisurely pat. I clenched the front of my loose, black shirt and grimaced in frustration.

My mind was in odium. Pictures of Near and L holding hands flickered through my mind like a dieing light bulb, pictures of them holding each other, touching each other, kissing each other and all those other intimacies that I dreaded with horror. With each thought, I grew more riled than I already was, and the more my anger peaked, the more my impulsiveness seemed to emerge.

I slapped the palm of my hand to the ground, the need to hurt something desperately eating away at my reason.

I stood up, letting my arms fall to my sides in all their lankiness while I began to move onward. I stepped out from the concealment of my lovely shelter, squinting as a ray of light penetrated through the glass and zapped directly into my irritated eyes. It stung somewhat, but I blinked my eyes a few times before I started walking again.

I sludged down the corridor, my eyes staring straight ahead of me like a drunken zombie. My arms swished from side to side, my feet stepping in a rhythmic pattern.

I felt like following them, really I did, but then I realized that all my resolve had melted away. I wanted to hurt something (actually, I wanted to hurt Near), but I couldn't find that last ounce of energy that usually seemed to convulse in me whenever I got angry.

Instead, I trudged through the hallway with an expression resembling that of a gaunt cadaver. I didn't even notice when I had passed by Near's closed door.

A few moments later, I found myself staring up at a bright yellow sun, it's mesmerizing rays of light hammering down upon my exposed face in a blanket of warmth. I stared up at it, of course not directly, and wondered how it could keep shining so vibrantly after having someone like the moon kick it out for about ten hours. It was amazing in itself that the sun was even out right now.

I would be thoroughly pissed if Near decided to suddenly kick me out of the race to becoming L's successor. Heck, I would be even more than pissed. I looked back down at the ground, my eyes scanning over the outside landscape. I gazed at the hordes of trees, the lush grass now being trampled by my feet, the flowers sticking up like broken pieces of string sticking out from a sweater, the way that shining fluff of white hair seemed to suddenly emerge from out of nowhere...

Wait.

I jumped back, my eyes opening as wide as my mouth. I fumbled for words, but it seemed that my mind was so completely caught off guard that I couldn't think of any saucy retorts. I was paralyzed.

I stepped back, my foot snagging on a rock. I was temporarily thrown off balance before I caught and righted myself. I drew my mouth into a thin line, slanting my eyes in what I hoped to be a menacing glare. I folded my arms over my chest and tilted my head to the side in an arrogant fashion.

"What'ya want?" I inquired crudely, the hiss in my voice blatantly obvious. Near stared at me passively, his eyes as vibrant as a dead body. I smiled when I found a faded trail of blood running across one of his cheeks. It satisfied me to no end that it was in fact I who had given him that scratch.

Near continued to stand there, staring at me with his usual far off gaze. I tapped the pads of my fingers alongside my arm, my patience thinning away like an unraveling spool of thread. Was he just going to stand there? Talk about a waste of time.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked again, licking my lips. I stepped forward, towering over his smaller framed body. He merely looked up at me and began twirling his hair with a single finger.

I bit my lip until it drew blood, my patience almost completely diminished. A few more moments passed by with him just standing there, taunting me with that emotionless mask of his. I clenched my fingers together.

I could take this no more.

I pushed him, hard.

I suppose I had caught him completely off guard, for he stumbled backwards and nearly tripped over his own sock-clad feet. He was no longer twirling his hair in that domineering way, as if he were the only one emotionally detached and superior.

Near finally stabilized himself, his face flushed, but still set with a mask of indifference. He then let out a tiny huff of air, his eyes closing briefly in exasperation. I brought my hands to my sides, my fingers jittering like mad in exhilaration. Why was I so twitchy all of a sudden, like a stoned drug addict looking for his next thrill?

I tilted my head towards the ground, corn colored bangs falling in front of my eyes like yellow stage curtains. I stared at the ground, eyes roaming over loose soil and dried patches of grass.

Why had I pushed him? I continued to gaze at the earth, a million thoughts mulling over in my mind until they eventually spilled over.

'Oh,' I thought, balling my hands into tight wrapped fists. 'I remember. I couldn't stand him any longer.' Was I so annoyed by Near's presence that it had eventually driven me to act in violence? Was I that much of a temperamental monster?

"Ugh!"

Something drove into me, ramming into my rib cage with such force that I nearly pummeled into a tree. I managed to put one foot in front of the other, trying to stop myself from falling, but all my efforts seemed to crumble into ashes when my foot caught and snagged against a protruding tree root.

I went hurdling into the ground, my face slamming down into the crisp earth while the rest of my body followed suit. For a brief moment, I thought that all had passed, but the peace was quickly disturbed when something jumped onto me, straddling my back with it's legs.

I snapped my head up from the soil, spitting out clumps of dirt and patches of green grass.

"Near, get off!" I hissed, flipping myself over. Near tumbled to the ground, back smacking against the earth with a dry thump.

Rage clouding my vision, I leaped up from the ground and sprang towards him. I landed on his stomach and pinned his arms down with my hands, my legs tightly straddling his waist.

"What the hell's your problem?!" I screamed, picking him up by the collar and smashing his against the ground. Near grunted in pain, the wind ultimately knocked out of him.

I continued this horrendous patter of picking him up and slamming him back down to the ground, each one with more force that the other before it. I watched his face studiously, taking satisfaction in every wince and grimace that he gave off. I felt sick for even feeling the slightest bit of pleasure in his pain, but my blind rage overrode that sick feeling and before I knew it, I had lost myself.

I continued to pummel Near into the ground, his appearance growing more and more shabbier. His eyes were glossed over and his face was flushed to a new degree of red. His usually perfect white hair was all askew and tussled, while his clothes were dirtied with dark soil and green grass stains.

With each slam to the ground, he choked and gasped for air. Resistance was futile, for the strength in him had left his body a long while ago.

"Agh."

I dropped him. Near began to choke, his coughs rolling out of him like thunderous waves. I watched with wide eyes as his own eyes teared over, his mouth open and cheeks flushed.

I eased back, my body beginning to shake in nervousness as Near continued to choke and cough like a madman.

Then he began to gurgle. I fell backwards and landed on my backside. A thick, red liquid began to ooze out of his mouth, spilling over his chin and streaming down his white neck like a narrow spring of vermilion. His blood spilled onto the earth, seeping through the soil like spidery veins.

All I could do was watch in horror as Near began to literally drain away. Precious seconds ticked by and he was still leaking blood. His neck was coated with the red liquid and his clothes barely began to soak up the blood like a marker pressed to paper.

"Near!"

I reared my head into the direction of the familiar voice, my eyes wide and fearful. It was like watching a movie in slow motion, without the gaudy music adorning it.

A head full of messy, black hair suddenly popped into view, heading towards Near with such quickness that I thought a twister would be left behind.

L jumped over tree stumps and thumped stealthily across the earth, his baggy white shirt flapping after him in the wind. His eyes were wide and alert and I was now starting to get scared.

"Near," he called, landing gently next to Near's gurgling body. L scooped him up as if he were a mere pillow. The blood drizzled down Near's neck and blotched L's shirt, staining it with a dark vermilion blotch.

Suddenly, as if a veil had been pulled off me, L turned towards me. His eyes were wide and I could see the dark bags underneath them. He must have stayed up really late last night.

I gulped and dug my fingernails into the soft earth.

"Why didn't you call for help?"

That one question nearly sent me into a world of nothingness. He didn't ask for an explanation as to why I had made Near bleed-- he had asked why I had not called for help. Perhaps L already knew the reason behind my actions and for some reason he wasn't calling them into question.

I stared at the ground solemnly, too embarrassed to look up and meet eyes with L, but when I looked up, he had already left.

I gazed at the patch of grass that Near had lain on, blotches of blood coating the earth like oil stains. I pursed my lips and clutched at the ground, my arms starting to tremble and my eyes starting to quiver. I felt like crying, like purging myself of all my problems like a sick person would do to his or her vomit.

For as long as I could remember, I had never liked to admit when I was wrong-- never. It was like a taboo, a dangerous phrase that would scorch my tongue if I ever were to say it.

I felt sick. It was an uneasiness that had settled itself at the pit of my stomach, gurgling there like hot soup. Was I wrong? Were my actions so abstruse that they had caused me to realize remorse? Why would I ever feel that way anyway, over Near no less?

I looked up at the sky, the sun clouding over, disintegrating into fog as the smell of rain became apparent.

If Near could be like the sun, then there would be no more problems. If he were to disintegrate, I wouldn't have to worry anymore.

However, it wouldn't always work out that way.

The sun always rises in the morning, no matter what.

**END**

**Well, that's the end of Make Me Pretty! Really, it is. Sorry, no smex scenes in the last chapter. I didn't want to end it off that way. Things are still left unanswered, like Near's condition or L's arrival, but they'll eventually be answered in the sequel. It's going to be one of those "I know we did it back then, but let's not bring it up- EVER", but in a more Mello-like tone. He can get distant too.**

**Thank you to all my reviewers! I'm glad that you made it this far!**

**Now,**

**STAY TUNED FOR THE SEQUEL. (there might be a Matt background plot in the sequel as well) :) **

**---Whisper (a.k.a. sesshyfanchick)  
**


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